


Regression

by ParkerMaximoff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, After writing chapter 8 DEFINITELY bisexual Robb, Also rape that will become con sex even though I'm still trying to figure out how, Angst, Asha will gain importance in the future, Bisexual Theon, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Past Rape/Non-con, Porn With Plot, Probably bisexual Robb, Smut, Theon suffering 24/7, Underage Masturbation, WARNING: SMUT IN ALMOST EVERY EPISODE BECAUSE WHY NOT, happy flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8485072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParkerMaximoff/pseuds/ParkerMaximoff
Summary: Fields got burnt, castles went down, water consumed boats, bodies covered full terrains — but war was over. New kings and queens arose, old traditions died and a new life started with those who survived and those yet to come to the world. But some people haven't still found peace, and such is the case of Theon Greyjoy.Even after a won battle, after going home safe and sound, ghosts of the past silently followed him, but it is one particular ghost –Ramsay Bolton's, of course– who is still chasing him.He wonders if by reliving his time with the ghost he can finally kill those memories.





	1. Chapter 1

Months had passed since neither the scent nor the sound of the sea comforted him. Waves breaking on the shore scared him as a battle used to scare him when he was little, and he left his bedchamber on rare occasions. He actually didn’t know whether months or years had passed since it had ended, but fear was still part of his life. Fear he had mistaken with pleasure in more than one time in the recent past.

It was his sister the one who took him to the beach, to the port, to the baptisms and even the one who made him go to family meetings. But she had less spare time as days passed since her coronation — his brother shifted inevitably to the background at the same time that he became her first priority, the most important person in her life.

War was over. A yet fragile peace had been restored as far as the eye could see and still peace was the last thing Theon was feeling. He would tremble at night under his linens, watchful, waiting for the bastard to crawl under the sheets and force him to relive what he had experienced so many times.

 

That night he barely ate anything and he went straight to his room ignoring his sisters’ advices and reminders of how he would die if he kept eating so few. He had indeed lost not only fat but muscle mass and every bone of his body could be seen from far away.

Once he was in his bed he stared at the open window. He could see nothing but darkness and hear nothing but water smashing against the cliff that was the castle’s foundation. Every beat of water against the stone brought back to Theon’s mind Ramsay’s poundings, Ramsay’s punishments, every beat he would receive in whatever part of his body was exposed to sight. He cried and cried until he fell asleep. 

* * *

Despite the hot sweat covering his body, he felt colder and more vulnerable than ever. A thin river of blood trickled down his inner thigh while two streams of seed went down his abdomen, an abdomen going up and down with violence due to his heavy breathing. He couldn’t cry. Not yet. He knew it already.

Ramsay whistled in triumph at the same time he tied his trousers’ laces. “It was either this or the hounds” he reminded Theon before he lied. “Don’t you dare think I enjoyed it.”

But Theon knew he enjoyed it because of the way he held his hips, the way he caressed him, the way he pulled his whiter hair. And however the islander preferred it that way for he just had to evade himself while Ramsay invaded him. He would rather think that his mind didn’t belong to that body than suffer the whipping and flaying Ramsay usually enjoyed doing. It was still violence — but how different it was.

Ramsay finished clothing himself and he left right after he emptied out a jar of water on Theon’s face. It was his way of providing him water so he could drink something. He combed his long, dark hair with his hands as he stepped out of the dungeon Theon was locked in. «I used to love this smell, I used to love seeing me like this», he thought repeatedly after smelling Ramsay’s semen on his abdomen, after seeing himself naked on the dungeon’s almost complete darkness. He quickly dozed off, still tied to the big pole and noticing how the fluids on his body got drier and drier as the seconds went by.

* * *

Small drops of something unknown to him suddenly woke him up. He jumped on the comfortable featherbed and slid back until he hit the wooden headboard. He took his hand to his own cheek, cleaning it while panting. It was water. His eyes moved towards the window. A soft rain was preceding a strong storm and wind was making rain get into his room.

He got up to close the window shutters and the first lightning broke the night. In that second of light provided by the storm, he saw Ramsay by the window. His face was decorated with a smile as white as the lightning itself. On his right hand rested the bow while on his left one he held a knife covered in blood. He jumped at him. Theon bent down, covered his head with his arms and started to yell. “Leave me alone! You’re dead! Leave me alone!” Ramsay burst into laughter as he approached Theon.

Theon was curled up on the floor when a maiden came in to assist him. Yna was her name. Yna helped her stand up and put him in bed again. She assured him that there was no one on the room except them and she had to light all the candles she could to prove it. Yna waited for Theon to fall asleep before closing the shutters and blowing all the candles.

 

Asha was trying to sleep some rooms away. She heard everything. Theon still had a long way to go and it didn’t matter how many times she killed Ramsay in her sleep — he always came back. «Maybe he won’t recover», she thought, sad. «I wish I could help him more.» But being the queen of the Iron Islands required a lot of time.


	2. Chapter 2

He never knew when days started and finished. His sleeping schedules changed from time to time and sometimes it was Ramsay himself who woke him up, with a knife or even a whip in his hand. He supposed then that it was morning, but how could Theon be sure that the bastard tortured him in the morning and not at night? Besides, foods weren’t useful to track time, for he received them whenever he deserved them, according to Ramsay.

It was a while since he had stopped playing with the prostitutes Ramsay sent him. He hadn’t touched them again after the bastard threatened him with cutting his penis. Today, he can still touch the scar from the cut the bastard left him that day – a cut that is born horizontally under his navel and curves down until getting deep into his left groin. He was (un)lucky enough to not bleed to death.

That evening it was the smell of woods and mud which woke Theon up. He moved to and fro, struggled with the ropes that tied him to the pole and moaned of pain when he stretched his back. Ramsay was lighting a couple of torches while the islander was opening his eyes, slowly. He was as hungry as scared.

“You don’t have the slightest idea of who difficult it is to hunt when it’s raining.” Ramsay hung the torch he had used to light the others and walked to the table he used to sit at to observe Theon begging for some food. “But don’t worry”, he added while pulling a small knife out, shiny in the almost complete darkness of the dungeon, “I finally found and brought you something. You haven’t eaten in days, have you? And I don’t want you to go to sleep and not wake up the next day.” His smile was the creepier and bloodier Theon had seen or will ever see.

The islander licked his lips and lifted his head in an attempt to see what the bastard had brought him. It didn’t smell like something freshly brewed or baked, so his expectations went down. He watched Ramsay’s back as he heard his knife cutting a piece of meat in two. Seconds later, he discovered that what the knife was actually doing was flaying a fat rabbit. One thing was certain: there was plenty of meat.

Ramsay walked towards him, carrying the rabbit in both his hands. His smile seemed to enlarge as he approached him. Theon took his head back when he smelt the raw rabbit meat. It made his stomach sick, although luckily there was nothing to vomit.

“Eat.” Ramsay’s voice was cold. An order in all its splendour. Theon moaned and turn his head right until his face met his arm. He would rather bite and eat his own meat. “Come on, Reek. I know this isn’t be the first time you do it. Eat.”

How could Ramsay know that? Had he counted the rats? Or had he placed them on purpose to see if he ate them? Since the bastard freed him from the cell and tied him to those poles for his own pleasure he had forgotten what eating rats –raw meat in general, indeed– was. Slowly, he turn his head back to its original place.

“Do it if you don’t want to bleed again.”

Whenever Ramsay sexually used him, the islander would bleed because of the ferocity the bastard did it with. Theon whinged before he opened his mouth. Ramsay brought the rabbit closer to him, and when Theon sensed the meat touching his teeth, he closed his mouth and bit off a mouthful of meat from its back. Blood run down his chin, neck and chest, down and down until the trickles of blood got lost under the tattered shirt he wore, until the blood accumulated on the edge of his also tattered trousers. He chewed very slowly, stifling coughs and nauseas. Theon swallowed. His stomach took a while to digest it and he had to use all his strength to not throw it up at that instant.

“Keep going.”

He repeated the process as many times as Ramsay demanded, more and more disgusted but oddly feeling satiated. His chin looked as if someone had covered it in red paint and several lines of blood run down to his torso.

When all was left was the rabbit’s bones, Ramsay threw them away before he rubbed Theon’s chin. He spread the blood across one of his cheeks, but he took his fingers to the islander’s mouth. He forced him to open it again. Theon obeyed. Ramsay inserted his fingers on his mouth. “Lick them. It’s the sauce”, he ordered. His smile reappeared when he noticed Theon’s tongue licking his fingers up and down. He took them out when he felt they were at last clean and he dried the saliva of his fingers with his own clothes.

Suddenly, without notice, Ramsay ripped Reek’s shirt in two. He placed his hands on his sides even when he knew that the islander was unable to move or to escape. He leaned towards him and his tongue started to lick the trickles of blood. He felt Theon shaking, trembling, struggling in an attempt to escape from his tongue — it only encouraged him to keep going. He didn’t mind the dirt that covered Theon, and he didn’t stop until his torso was clean again, going down from his pectorals and going up after stroking with the tongue itself the scar he left him on his abdomen and his left groin, now covered with his trousers, some days ago.

Ramsay pretended to stand up but instead he tore Theon’s trousers apart and started to stimulate his penis with his mouth, carelessly.

* * *

Theon jumped of his bed, waking up. He would have fallen to the floor if he hadn’t held on to the headboard. His heart was pumping quicker than ever and a thin layer of sweat covered him from his scalp to his feet. That last memory hadn’t happened. It had been a result of his twisted imagination, he repeated himself while he lied down again, wrapping himself up with the sheet and in a fetal position to try lowering and hiding his shameful erection.

What had just happened to him? Had Ramsay left him so deranged? That evening, Ramsay left after cleaning him in such a macabre way. He didn’t do that thing with his mouth until…

«Don’t even think about it», he told himself as he wept. But if he didn’t think about it, if he didn’t shout it from every corner, it would chase him forever.

He was about to fall asleep when he suddenly started to vomit, throwing up not only dinner but lunch and part of the breakfast. The simple memory of a raw rabbit emptied him and in the dark of the night, and his imagination made him see a dead rabbit on the vomit.

Next morning he woke up against one of the walls. His maiden told him he had to get ready and have breakfast with some urgency because in less than an hour, the celebrations of his sisters Asha’s birthday would start. As the brother of the Queen, his presence was compulsory. With no exception.


	3. Chapter 3

It doesn’t matter how many girls I fuck. It doesn’t matter how many girls I kill. It doesn’t matter how much fun I have when I’m not with him. It’s him I want. It’s him I want to see destroyed, so that he can see himself for what he really is. He is a despicable human being, so he is more useful as a thing, as an object that obeys me.

At first it was just a game. Then, it became a demonstration for father – I had to prove that I was worthy of his name, so keeping the islander and making a pet of him was the best way to do so. Now, it has become a necessity. I enjoy breaking him, I enjoy humiliating him, I enjoy playing with him, with his hopes and dreams. Furthermore, I _need_ to break him, humiliate him and play with him.

He has that unique ugliness that ends up making him, in some way, beautiful. He is fragile, and all the strength he once seemed to have is now gone. And yet he tries to build strength from the ashes whenever I go inside him, only to give up after a few movements, after getting in and out of him with all I have.

However, I fear I’m becoming soft. He barely bleeds and I make it last not because of his suffering but because by doing it slowly I get more pleasure. Is the pet slowly taking over me? Will I end up being not like him but him? What if father notices? I try to treat him exactly as I treated him the first time I raped him, but I can’t. Now, I enjoy letting my hands free to stroke his broken body, his rough skin, the scars I left him. Yesterday I even run my finger through the scar on his groin, down to his penis. I do understand his success with women. I want him to feel pleasure, but that would mean to admit defeat.

War will be upon us any minute now. I do not know whether we are marching for Winterfell and, if so, when. I’m as curious as afraid of what will happen if he sees one of his old homes, how he will react. On one hand I fear he will gain strength and rebel, while on the other hand I have the slight hope that by being home he will finally open to me, he will finally stop resisting from the beginning, he will finally let me teach him what pleasure is.

But that, alas, must wait. Now it’s time to free my mind again, to stop thinking about him and worrying about the future. I’m close to come, and I want her to believe that I’m enjoying this way more than she is – that by fucking her on all fours I’m doing it to show more authority instead of because I’m picturing on her back the wrecked back of my particular dog. In fact, when I finally come, not only I picture his whole body – I can also hear his sobs, his inaudible screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have a lot of time these weeks but I wanted to write something anyway so I did this short Ramsay POV. I think I ended up idealizing him a little bit but well, I want this Ramsay to be a human dressed as a monster, not a monster dressed as a human. It's not like they will be the perfect couple or something similar, just that Ramsay will show feelings even if he doesn't want to.


	4. Chapter 4

Celebrations went from dawn to dusk and Asha was filled with presents of all kind. During the feast, which took place in one of the beaches as sun went down, the Iron Fleet, with the help of fishermen and workers of the port, represented the Great Battle of the Ironman’s Bay in which Seagard and every other coast city faced the islanders in one of the fiercest naval battles ever seen in the recent history. Masts were still visible even though most of the sunk ships had been taken by the ironborn — part of it was used to crave Asha’s crown, with kraken tentacles mimicking floral motives and a rough aquamarine right in the center of it. The battle happened weeks before the end of the war and victory was still uncertain as the Greyjoy ruled now over some of the fighting cities at the same time that suffered a massive loss of fleet.

Theon had been along her sister during the whole day, fearing that without her his fears would materialize. It doesn’t mean he didn’t enjoy his sister’s birthday – indeed, he had fun for the first time in a long time. He didn’t participate in the competitions and games that had been organized, he felt they were no place for him, but he amused himself just by watching them.

“Thank you, sister”, Theon told Asha while they were watching two men fighting on the deck of a ship, both dressed as captains.

“For celebrating _my_ name day?”, she laughed just before she broke a boiled crab in two with her bare hands to start eating it.

Theon smiled, a smooth movement. “Yes, indeed”, he replied after some moments of silence. “I mean, without this, I would have spent the whole day in the castle, probably in my chambers. Besides, I needed some fresh air.”

He went out, of course, but he felt some kind of anxiety that forced him to get back into the castle. He was feeling better, he felt it –nightmares and vomits and treacherous erections were nothing compared to the night terrors and apparitions he experienced the first days and nights of freedom–, but it was a difficult process. And even in that moment he could imagine Ramsay looking for him, emerging from the water just like the islanders – harder and stronger.

“You should get out more, yes. I would do it with you, but my duties are more important now that they have ever been or even will be. Who knows when we’ll have to brace for battle again.”

Theon nodded. He despised politics now, and he preferred to stay away from battles. He had gone to the Great Battle of the Ironman’s Boy only so that he could please his uncle Victarion. However, he had retreated even before the ship he was in went near the center of the fight.

“Hopefully, peace will last until we die, sister.” At least the peace that was settled on Westeros. His inner peace was a different world.

His sister went on eating and food never stopped coming, neither for them nor for all the guests from almost all the main islands. He ate small amounts of octopus, cuttlefish, crab meat, oysters, mussles and clams that ended up filling his stomach. He also took a piece of orange cake, but his family ate the rest of it.

When the act was finished and food was being served for those who had participated in the fake battle and his sister was receiving presents, Theon excused himself. He got away from the tables and got close to the shore of the beach, lighted only by the moon and the stars. He closed his eyes and let the ocean breeze fill his lungs. A short smile was painted in his lips, forgetting his past and the nightmare he had had that same morning for a while. He had missed that scent, but now he knew for sure that no one will be able to take him away from it. Never again, he thought.

Theon jumped and even screamed when a strong hand landed on one of his elbows. Victarion stepped back and raised his hands to his own chest. “It’s me”, he tried to reassure Theon.

He looked at his uncle and nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. You… you just scared me.” Theon often wondered how much did his family know, apart from his sister, the one who actually marched North to rescue him while Stannis and Roose were fighting to death. They knew he had been abused, but did they know how? Or did they just figured that he was beaten up until he felt unconscious, or that he was forced to do things he loathed to do?

“How is it going?”

Theon looked at his uncle. Even in that almost complete darkness he could see his face. Activity, and not time, had finished exhausting him. Wrinkles covered him, his eyes looked sadder, and his hair had turned to greyer tones. It seemed as if he was becoming Aeron, who was day after day older and older but also stronger and stronger, especially after his brawl with Euron.

“Not bad. I’m better. Or at least I feel better.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded again and tried not to freak out when he mistook some rocks, up on the cliff, with a human silhouette.

“He still chases me, sometime. But… I’ve been through worse.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I made you battle. As a true ironborn, I thought some fight would make you good.”

They were silent for a while. Theon turn again to face the sea, but he could still feel Victarion on his back. What was he waiting for?

“I…” Theon doubted. He swallowed his own saliva. How could he be remembering this now? How could he be feeling this now? “I miss Robb.” His legs weakened, so he let himself be guided by them and sat on the cold sand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I'm sorry this one took so long. I thought I would be able to write more in December... but of course, my finals are in January and I spend all day studying (that's actually a lie, because as you know, Tumblr is addictive).
> 
> Anyway, here's another chapter. I don't know if I'll be able to write another one before New Year's Eve so just in case, I hope you're having a good time this holidays and happy new year, everyone! Let's hope 2017 is better than this crappy year.

He had never recognised it out loud. He hadn’t thought about it much, too. He was saddened when Ramsay told him Robb’s fate, he even cried in the darkness the night offered him, but he had never expressed what he felt about Robb.

 

All the Stark children had accepted him and, in a particular way, loved him. He was treated as if he was another sibling, and sometimes he received a better treatment than Jon did. But he felt more attracted to Robb than to anyone else. He was such a nice boy – the old gods had taken the best of both his parents and had unified it in one single person. They spent plenty of time together, and they indeed grew up together, discovering what becoming into a man meant.

Theon still suspects it was thanks to Robb that he discovered he was also attracted to men. He was cynical about it at that time, of course, and he only fucked girls, but why did he end up missing him so much? Not for his jokes, his smile, his excellent use of weapons or his damn voice, but because of the love and tender he professed him. His hugs were very different than any other hug he had ever received. Maybe his mind was giving that significance to his hugs, but he felt it was the right thing to think. His arms held him really tight and he had the impression that sometimes Robb kissed his head, softly. Was he attracted to him, too? That was nonsense, of course.

They had seen each other naked, they had compared their bodies, they had talked about masturbating, – they had been kids growing up, ultimately, but they had never done anything with each other that didn’t imply hands. Was it all in Theon’s mind? Was Robb the same with Jon? Or was it just childish stuff that he ended up idealising?

But it was something that surpassed physical attraction. He had thought of Robb when Ramsay was fucking him, imagining that they were doing that out of pleasure, that they had grown up enough to be making out without feeling guilty or embarrassed. But Robb would never be so harmful, so fierce, and he would definitely neither scratched him nor pound his nails into his back, thighs and buttocks that way. So the image of Robb would vanish and the pain, mixed sometimes with an illogical pleasure, would come back.

Robb had also visited his dreams. He had seemed the same boy as always, now a grown man, but his face would be painted with brush-strokes of sadness and deception. Was it because of what Ramsay was doing to him? Or for the time they had not spent together because of the war?  Or because he had never done that kind of things with him? Maybe Theon was sheltering himself in that thoughts because he was too afraid to recognise that it was a lie, that his relationship with Robb had been nothing more than a fraternal one. But he knew it had been different. He knew there was something that made it special.

 

Theon was facing the sea again. His uncle had retired without saying anything else, a bit devastated. How could his nephew miss a Stark? But of course, he would never understand what Robb had meant to him. Theon licked his lips, slowly. His breath accelerated. Some tears went down his cheeks, but he stayed silent. Would he ever find anyone like Robb? Not in an amorous way, not even in a sexual one –especially when sex was now something he couldn’t even talk clearly about– but in a fraternal one. His sister was doing a great job, considering that she was a queen and she was short in time, but it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t spoke to her about what prostitute he had fucked or how long it had taken him to cum the last time he touched himself. He would not talk about such things in the present, in his state, but it was an example of what he could freely speak to Robb about. Would his uncle listen to such things? Of course not. And his handmaidens… they would probably run, scared.

The islander rubbed his face with the shirt he was wearing. It was all in the past. He was now a different man. Maybe a broken one, but an alive one. One that could still make a difference. He just had to let his fears go away. But at what cost? Did he had to write a journal? Or scream the whole story from the top of his lungs so that he could be freed of that memories?

 

When he returned, people were marching to the castle. He breathed deeply before he joined his sister back to the castle in a majestic black horse. People wasn’t fully adapted to horses on the islands, but Theon found them far more comfortable than hours of walking, especially in such a stud. He looked up at the sky, darker and darker as minutes went by. He didn’t want to go to bed.

“Can I…” he bit his lower lip, “Can I sleep with you today?” He asked in a low voice, looking both sides to be sure that no one except Asha heard him.

“Oh, brother… I’d love to. But while you were gone, there was a game… basic fighting, you know… and the one who defeated the others would win a night with me. The offer was valid only for tonight.” She smiled, and Theon smiled back, just a little bit. It was good to see his sister happy. She wasn’t affected about comments you could hear in the villages –«How is she still not wed? Is she going to have kids? Does she even know what a wedding is?», etc.–, she enjoyed her sexual life. If she had to marry someone, she would decide whom and when, and if she wanted to have kids… what was the difference?, she used to think, what was the difference, if the next king or queen would be chosen in the kingsmoot?

“It’s okay. Enjoy it while you can, sister. You deserve it.”

“Are you afraid, Theon? You can sleep with whoever maiden you want, if that’s going to comfort you”, she tried to calm him.

“It’s not that… not entirely, at least. I just… I think I miss things that now terrify me, like sleeping with a girl. Not that I meant it that way with you”, he laughed, inevitably, “but maybe it helps. Never mind, it’s just foolishness.”

Asha caressed his arm but stayed quiet. What could she say? ‘Everything will be okay’? After all the time, that would be a stupid thing to say. And Theon was tired of stupidity.

 

The belt hit his buttocks once, twice – infinite times. He would shake whenever the leather marked his skin and he would whine every time it provoked open wounds on him, with blood going down to the floor. He had disobeyed him. He had talked too much. He had begged for his freedom, and now he had to pay.

The last whips were the worse ones. All they did was open his wounds more, making his flesh, himself, weak and flaccid. Useless except for one thing. He closed his eyes, hearing his master’s clothes opening and unbuttoning.

“Will you ever talk to me like that?” Theon shook his head. “This is your home, Reek. A punishment for what you did. The life you deserve. If you ever beg again, I’ll use the knife. And believe me… you don’t want that.”

And he penetrated him, using Reek’s blood and his own pre-seminal fluids as a lubricant. It didn’t last long – Theon didn’t even have time to picture Robb’s face and body in his mind. Ramsay panted like the dog he was, and towards the end, his moans filled the room. He kept thrusting him after he came, with his cock erect for an incredible amount of time after it. Theon had never heard such moans, not even in women who reached orgasms easily.

He would have fallen into the ground if he hadn’t been tied to the posts. He raised his eyes just enough to see Ramsay’s groin and inner thigh. His blood had tied Ramsay’s skin red, and even the base of his member, now almost entirely flaccid, and his pubic hair were reddish. His stomach turn. He closed his mouth and took all the strength he could not to throw up. Ramsay didn’t even clean himself – he took the last sip of a beer he had brought before putting on his trousers and leaving the room. Darkness embraced Reek once more. And then he had cried and screamed out of disgust and pain.

 

The screams of his dreams joined his own screams on the present. When he woke up and shook in his bed, someone was entering it. Under the smell of sweat, wine and sex itself he recognised the scent of his sister. He calmed at the touch of his hand pulling him down to the mattress again.

“It’s okay, Theon, it’s okay. He was awful in bed, anyways.”

They both laughed, although Theon was still scared.

“How can I stop seeing him, Asha?” He mumbled.

“Write it. Or speak about it to anyone you trust enough. Sharing the experience will probably ease you from the agony it causes.”

Theon remained silent. It was her. She was the only one he could trust enough on such a story. He turn his body, facing her sister.

“Is Dagmer still alive?”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, this is one's longer than I expected.  
> I have been thinking about this all day, so here it is. It's not a plot-advancing chapter, just the scene of the bathtub from episode S04E06 with something else. You can imagine what something else. So it's just like a flashback of Theon with some mention to Robb and Ramsay being Ramsay and oral sex and I dunno, I hope you like it if you read the whole thing.
> 
> PS: My first exam is on January 9th so I don't know if I'll add another chapter this week. I'll try, 'cause my nights are free, but I don't promise anything.  
> Happy 2017 everybody!

When he wasn’t tied to the posts, Theon was kept in a cell where he used to feed on rats – at least until Ramsay discovered him and put poison on every corner of it so that rats died and he couldn’t eat them. When he was in the cell, he wasn’t treated as a naked object but as a dog. Theon couldn’t recall which one he preferred to be. He bled and cried in both occasions. But of course, the cell was warmer. Just a bit warmer. His clothes were broken and threadbare, but it was still better than being completely naked, completely exposed to a psycho that used his body the way he did. And nights tied to the posts were far worse that nights lying down on the floor of his cell.

Reek looked at the dish he hadn’t even dared to touch: toasts with a thin layer of mildew and a thick sauce of honey and mustard probably made weeks ago. The smell was unbearable and he had to sleep with an empty stomach and biting the hang-nail of one of his thumbs.

Ramsay kicked his abdomen. Reek gasped before coughing and being able to breathe again while opening his eyes. There was no light in his cell, but he could see a pale brightness in the corridor Ramsay had just crossed. It was morning, he supposed. Or noon. It was difficult to tell now that clouds were almost permanent on Westeros, with autumn slowly leaving Westeros to let winter reign.

“Get up. I have a gift for you. Follow me. And don’t try anything stupid”, he added, spinning a dagger in his right hand so that Theon understood the consequences of his hypothetical disobedience.

Reek nodded. He stood up and followed Ramsay, tripping over his own feet a few times. His muscles were weak. At first, he had lost muscle mass. He had never been brawny or big, but at least his muscles were well defined. When he was first captured and he stopped doing exercise –or simply moving as much as he used to–, muscle mass became unworked fat. As weeks and months went by, fat disappeared. Now he was thin, at the edge of being extremely thin. He could touch the hard bones of his hip, and his ribs were starting to be not only touchable but visible. His cheeks were sunken and his eyes seemed bigger than ever. His arms became almost as thin as wooden sticks, and his thighs were starting to equal the size of his also sunken calves. It seemed like his penis and testicles were the only thing that wouldn’t shrink, but he was afraid he looked even uglier because of the disproportion he would then suffer. But what if they also shrank? What if it stopped working? He hadn’t had an erection for months. Ramsay stimulated his prostate some other time, when he raped him, but he found the act so disgusting, so harmful, that he never got excited. He tried to think of girls, of Robb, but it didn’t work either. He was now ashamed of what he used to be proud of. If he were free again sometime in the future, would a girl be able to excite him?

They arrived at a bright, well lighted room. Theon covered his eyes with one of his hands and blinked several times before his pupils adapted to the light. It wasn’t sunny, but it hurt after all that time in the dark.

“Wh–where… are we, my lord?” Reek asked, in a murmur.

“It’s one of the many rooms the Dreadfort has. Here, take this.” Ramsay took Theon by his arms and took him carelessly to a table.

When Theon was sit down on the chair, he smelt the beaked piece of lamb with mashed potatoes that was on the table. He could also hear the meat softly crackling, which meant that it had been cooked minutes before he arrived there. He licked his dry lips. Meanwhile, Ramsay filled a cup with sweet wine from the south.

“Is it poisoned, my lord?” If he wasn’t more careful, Reek’s stubbornness and curiosity, as well as his inopportuneness, would end up killing him.

Ramsay’s answer was a slap in Reek’s face with the back of his right hand. A ring he was wearing left a mark on his cheek, and he started to feel the taste of blood from his interior cheek. He lowered his eyes, bright from tears that he achieved to hold. “I’m sorry, m’lord.”

“Eat, little dog. This is the only chance you will ever get to eat something that nice.”

Theon didn’t trust him. There had to be something else. What did he want in exchange? More sex? He nearly threw up by the thought of it. But it was either that or more punishment, torture and death.

With some difficulties due to his shackles, he devoured the food. He even ate up the bone, leaving it shiny and white. When he finished, he licked all his fingers, for Ramsay hadn’t allowed him to eat with cutlery. As he was done sucking his little finger, he felt ashamed and blushed. Ramsay laughed as if he was seeing the most comic performance ever made by some buffoons. “Okay, get up”, he managed to say when he controlled his laughter.

Theon obeyed him at the moment. He had been so focused on the lamb that he didn’t notice that some maidens had brought a bathtub full of hot water. Vapour ascended from its surface and was starting to accumulate in the air, condensing on whatever surface it reached.

Ramsay took a key out of his clothes and freed Reek from his shackles. He knew the dog wouldn’t try to escape due to his lack of exercise. Besides, he had locked the door. No one would bother them. No one would notice them, in fact. Dreadfort was almost empty. Roose had left last night with almost all of his men to Winterfell, leaving Ramsay with one simple task: freeing Moat Caitlin.

“Undress and get in the tub.”

The bastard’s eyes were flickering with excitement. He took a few steps back to watch Reek on its full. He was proud of what he had achieved, his multiple scars and wounds. Theon didn’t look back at Ramsay. He looked at his own body when he took off his trousers and rushed to the water. He couldn’t stand the bastard looking at him that way. His old self, the one that he couldn’t entirely remember, wouldn’t have minded. But now, it was unbearable. He was ugly. In fact, he was an aberration. «Don’t cry, Reek», he reminded himself.

He actually was thankful for the hot water. He sighed out of pleasure when he sat against one of the sides, water covering him up to his chest. Reek did even close his eyes for a few seconds. He was afraid of what Ramsay could do if he kept them close for a long time.

“I have a very important task for you, Reek.” Ramsay announced as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, right alongside Theon. He carried a bar of soap in one of his hands. “You are going to pretend to be an ironborn. You know who, those fierce and savage people who think they have the right to do as they please. You look a lot like the son of Balor Greyjoy, and we are going to use that as our advantage. What’s your name?”

“Reek, my lord.” And yet Balor Greyjoy sounded very familiar to him. His head started to think of the past. Greyjoy. He felt a special connection with that name. And in one way or another, he knew it was related with Robb, the only one he fully remembered from his _past life_.

“That’s right, my dog, that’s right.” Ramsay had to ask it sometimes to see if Theon had forgotten his previous self. He hadn’t been able to erase him from his own memories, of course, but he had taken care of it. Theon wouldn’t remember Theon Greyjoy in a long and difficult time. “So, you’re going to pretend to be him so that everyone in Moat Caitlin listen to you. When they do, they would surrender… and that’s when I enter the game. Tell me what you have to do, Reek.”

As the ironborn started to repeat what Ramsay had ordered him, the bastard rolled his sleeves up and put the bar in the water. He took it out only to rub Theon’s shoulders and arms. He could feel his nervousness, the slight changes of his voice, the way he trembled when he started to soap him up.

“That’s right, my dear Reek, you’re very clever. Now, you are going to offer them food, peace and clear passage to their way home. No one will harm them. Repeat that to me, and raise your arms.”

Theon obeyed him and after raising his arms he repeated the orders Ramsay gave him. In the meantime, while listening to him, Ramsay started to soap his arms and armpits, delighting himself with their blond hair.

“Stand up and repeat everything again, Reek, my fellow dog.”

Theon moaned out of disgust, but he stood up anyways. Millions of drops of water fell to the water from his arms, his testicles, his fingers, creating an almost magical and rhythmical sound. He looked at one of the steamed up windows as he said what Ramsay had ordered him. His voice would tremble whenever he felt the soft bar of soap going over his body.

Ramsay was barely listening to him. He soaked the bar once again before rubbing it on his chest and abdomen. He then went down to his thighs, scrubbing their inner parts. Afterwards, he ascended up to his inner thigh, forcing him to spread his legs. He rubbed his groins with the boar before he scrubbed his own hands. When they were full of soap, he started to clean his testicles, rubbing them in the palm of his hands. He then did the same with his penis and his pubic hair. “Turn around”, was his only order. Ramsay stood up to clean his back and he sat again on the edge of the tub to do his backside. He rubbed his buttocks with the bar, but he did the same as he did with his cock when he went to his crack. He filled his hands with soap.

“What a fucking mess, Reek. You need to be cleaner”, he mocked when he spread his buttocks. Some leftover of his faeces were mixed with Ramsay’s semen. Even he found it disgusting. But he rubbed his hands up and down his crack several times without complaint. He put some pressure on his hole, threatening Reek with fingering him, but he didn’t. When he was finished, he patted Reek’s flaccid but. “Sit down again. I’ll do your hair now. A dog like you shouldn’t deserve this… but of course, you can’t impersonate Theon stinking like that.” Ramsay washed his hands on the water and he stood up.

When he came back, there was lotion on one of his hand. He soaked it a little bit before he started to clean Theon’s hair, firmly. He didn’t mind the foam going down to Reek’s eyes. In fact, he would enjoy his cries. But Reek stayed silent and would eventually clean his eyes. When Ramsay finished, he washed again his hands on the water. “You can rinse it out now, Reek”, he commanded.

“Thank you”, said Reek with a strange security in his voice when he emerged from the water. He placed his hair back on its place.

“Oh, no, Reek, thanking comes now.”

Ramsay stood up. He let his pants’ laces loose. He had to put his trousers down because of his erection; in other circumstances, just by untying them they would have fallen down. Theon backed up, violently, only to hit his back with the inner wall of the bathtube.

“Look at me.”

Silence and immobility.

“Fucking look at me, Reek.”

Ramsay’s right hand took Reek’s chin, with all the strength he had. Theon feared he could break his jaw in half, so he looked up. For a moment, Ramsay seemed a different person. That light revealed a pinker skin and, of course, uglier features. Not even his long dry hair could camouflage his shiny red earring. It was scarier than he thought.

“You won’t disappoint me now, will you, Reek?”

The aforesaid shook his head. “No”, he murmured, “no, my lord. Never.”

“Then look at me unless I tell you the opposite, Reek.”

Ramsay moved forward, until his thighs touched the bathtub. Reek disobeyed the bastard for a second, just to check his erect cock. It was shorter than he pictured when he had raped him, but also thicker. Anyway, a few centimetres shorter or longer wouldn’t make any difference: he wouldn’t be able to handle _that_.

“Come closer. Open your mouth. Come on, you don’t want me to force you to do it, Reek. That’s it.”

Theon placed his hands on both sides of the bathtub, holding to the edges as if the grip would make the task easier, and leaned forward. Ramsay placed one of his hands in Reek’s nape. He _trusted_ his dog. He would do it. He wouldn’t have to pull him, for now. Theon was so depraved that he would take his cock at once, he knew it. Just as he knew it that he wouldn’t, and in his chocking he would find the greatest pleasure of all times.

The blonde one opened his mouth and took Ramsay’s glans into his mouth. He licked it, and his face contorted with its lightly salty taste. He wondered when was the last time the bastard bathed. He gifted him with another lick before moving his head forward. His lips adjusted to Ramsay’s thickness as he continued advancing. He barely reached the half of its length when he choked. The first retching of the morning. When he did so, he lowered his eyes, a knee-jerk reaction. Ramsay hissed and gripped Reek’s nape harder. The ironborn instantly raised his eyes, also looking at the bastard’s treasure trail that got lost under his shirt.

Theon moved back and moved forward again when his lips reached the base of the glans. Whenever he leaned forward, he tried to cover more length. He choked, of course, but he didn’t stop trying. He let his saliva smear Ramsay’s cock, some of it slipping out of his mouth when he was unable to swallow the leftovers and trickling down to Ramsay’s balls and, eventually, dripping into the floor. The bastard looked neutral, defying before Reek's eyes, but on the inside he was wishing to moan. It had just started, but he was already feeling a lot of pleasure.

Minutes went by, and he started to get bored. Reek got stuck and left a third of his cock free. He wouldn’t allow that. He took his shirt off first, revealing a not-to-worked body. He was fit, but his muscles weren’t as visible as his own in the past. In fact, if Ramsay kept eating like a king, he would develop a belly that would continue growing for the rest of his life. Reek wished that went true – that way, no one would ever like him. Ramsay left his left hand where it was, on Reek’s nape, and placed his right one on the crown of his head. He grabbed several locks of hair and using both hands he started to control Reek’s head. He pushed him back, until he could feel his lips caressing his glans. When both bodies were about to separate, he brought Reek to himself, fast, hard. His cock made its way into Reek’s throat, whose abdomen shrank violently as he coughed and choked, producing tons of saliva that filled his mouth and would cover his chin and neck every time Ramsay went back and forth.

The bastard continued with his movements, faster every time. When he didn’t move Reek’s head, he would thrust his mouth, moving his hips in an unbelievable fast pace. Theon’s cheeks turned red because of his lack of air, and saliva wasn’t the only fluid that covered his face, for tears started to burst out of his eyes. He couldn’t control them. His vision blurred. No matter how many times he blinked – he wasn’t able to see clearly. So he pictured Robb. He thought of that time at the small lake at the south of Winterfell. They had been so close… If he concentrated, he would be able to feel the cold he felt that day, the cold that Robb helped him disappear.

He imagined his best friend, his brother, fucking his mouth. His curly haired stuck to his forehead because of the sweat; his chest also covered in sweat, wetting the few red hairs that he was growing back then; his balls hitting his chin; his hands, the hands of a true knight, holding his head. Robb would have been softer, or at least he would have done it hard for a few minutes, but it was still a good picture. A picture that made him hard. If the tub wasn’t so full, his rosy glans would have reached the surface and welcome both men. He moaned out of pleasure, although Ramsay’s cock barley let him. He had forgotten how pleasant an erection could be.

His cough augmented when he felt Ramsay cum. He didn’t think the bastard would cum in his mouth, but if he did it in his ass, he would do it anywhere, he later thought. He leaned back, but the only thing he achieved was making Ramsay’s hold stronger. His blurred vision was now also because of his lack of oxygen, not just his tears. His face had turn from red to purple. Would he die there? Was the lamb his last meal? Did Ramsay clean him so that he would meet the gods with a good appearance? When he was about to pass out, Ramsay pulled his head back, with violence. His back hit the bathtub again as he gasped for air, desperate. The rests of his saliva, mixed with Ramsay’s thick and hot semen, formed trickles that still united his mouth to his cock. He licked his lips to clean himself and cut that connection. He closed his legs, pressing his erection in an attempt to lower it.

“Stand up and get dressed, dog. You will leave this afternoon, in a few hours. We have to get you ready.” While talking, Ramsay cleaned his cock, at first shaking it and then rubbing it with one of Reek’s clothes.

Reek doubted. He pressed his legs stronger, until his erection hurt. He had no other choice than to stand up. When he did, he used both hands to cover his erect cock, pulling it until it rested upon one of his thighs. He wanted to massage it, rub it until he came, but he couldn’t.

“Oh, boy, Reek. Isn’t that interesting…” The bastard walked towards Reek while tying the laces of his trousers. He squatted before Theon. He had never seen it erect, and he was curious. He took Reek’s wrists and wrestled with him for some seconds before he was able to lift the ironborn’s arms and release his cock. He whistled, as fascinated as ironic. He understood his success with women in the past. He was even attracted to it, but giving Reek pleasure with his mouth wasn’t on his plans for now. Ramsay took both Reek’s wrists with one hand and used the free one to masturbate him once. His hands went from his glans to his pelvis, slowly, studying its hardness and thickness. It was thinner than his own, but a bit larger. Once he was on the base he squeezed it for a while. It was a whole different sensation than when he had cleaned it with the soap. Now it was obscene, an obscenity he adored.

“This is pretty good, for a dog like you. Bitches will love you, you know? But you will have to be careful with the teeth, of course.”

He freed his cock and stood up to finish dressing. Was he talking about real bitches? Or did he referred to prostitutes with that name? Just by the thought of hounds devouring him, Reek began to lower his erection. He preferred it that way. Ramsay would now think that sucking him had given him that pleasure. He would now use him more than ever. He could even stop considering it rape, for he had proven to like it. That was wrong. He wanted to escape. He needed Robb. Robb. The only connection he could make with his past, along with that name, Greyjoy.

Ramsay had to slap his face so that he could interrupt his thoughts. He couldn’t forget where he was, _who_ and even _what_ he was. Freedom was difficult. But he would achieve it. He knew it.

Reek, who would impersonate Theon Greyjoy for a few hours, maybe even days, dressed with whatever Ramsay handed him: woollen trousers, a silk shirt, a doublet with the colours of House Greyjoy and a cape with a fur lining and a kraken emblem in gold thread. Ramsay also handed him a bow and some arrows –his bow and his arrows, in fact, but he didn’t recognise them– even though he was unable to use it, and finally, a white flag to represent that he was no threat. In fact, threat would come later.

 

 

Theon found himself crying on the floor in the early dawn. It wasn’t a nightmare. Not even a bad dream. They were just memories. He should have warned them. He should have realised who he was, how Ramsay had played with his mind, and started a rebellion with the islanders who remained in Moat Caitlin. But now he was powerless, and one couldn’t change the past.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so today was my first exam and it was shit so I decided to write this chapter because why not. I’m sorry it’s a flashback (with some smut and underage masturbation) but I think I’ll focus on flashbacks until I finish the tests (on the 24th more or less) which are also good because it will allow me to focus on Robb/Theon relationship and maybe some Reek/Ramsay moment as well.
> 
> P.S.: I forgot to mention it earlier but since Theon is older than Robb I decided to make them both Theon’s age at the beggining of the saga, 18 more or less. In other words, both of them are 16 in this chapter. I know it screws up the timeline but as this isn’t a Robb fic it doesn’t really matter. It’s just that I don’t want to make this extremely underage.  
> P.S. 2: My horse-related vocabulary is horrible, sorry.  
> P.S. 3: Ok, this is longer than I had thought and expected, sorry. I hope it's not a problem. Btw, any feedback on Theon and Robb's relationship is welcome (if you'd like it to be more intimate even though I wrote that they didn't actually do anything with each other besides masturbating –that could be changed–, if you think it's too much, if you want cuddles... anything, please).

Their clothes and bodies were almost fully covered in mud. They had been hunting. At first, they hadn’t gotten off the horse, Theon showing off his archery abilities and Robb gallantly using a sword that had been made for him to use on his more and more difficult training sessions. But they learnt that they had to be silent, so they went on walking, hiding behind the huge pine trees that surrounded Winterfell. Then their remaining children spirits made them jump –and fail– to catch some rabbits. They only brought to the castle two rabbits and one small deer.

They got on their horses again and started to head back to the castle, following the affluent that was born on that woods and ended up flowing into the White Knife. The almost brothers were able to see its source and the way it got wider and wider until it was impassable. It was bigger than a pond, but not as wide as a lake, and in fact it would narrow before it reached The Kingsroad and, further, the White Knife. The early twilight gave water a magical lilac tone, and while Robb admired it, Theon preferred the blueness of the sea, its waves and ferocity.

“We should stop here and clean ourselves. Mother will kill us if we enter the castle at this state.” Robb declared, making it sound as an order. Theon looked at him at the same time that he pulled back on the reins of his horse. He smiled. He could see a better version of Ned in Robb if he concentrated – not only because of his mother’s physique, but because of his pose, the security he spoke with, the orders he gave even when he didn’t want to. He would indeed obey him.

“As you say”, was all Theon replied.

Robb jumped off the horse and Theon imitated him, envying his innate style. Robb started to undress. “We have to take advantage of the sun. It’s still summer, but you know… nights are cold, especially in the woods.”

Theon nodded and started to take off his clothes. He followed Robb, leaving their horses grazing, and sank his garments on the water. They were still wearing their underwear, thin trousers that reached their calves. The boys didn’t have any idea of how to wash clothes, but they did the best they could. They removed the mud, scrubbing the clothing with their own hands, without taking care of its odour. Once they were finished, they hang their clothes on several branches, hoping that they would get wet before darkness was too intense.

“I think I’m going to clean myself, too”, Robb thought out loud, smiling at Theon. The last one nodded, “Okay, as you wish.”

Theon joined him. His idea was to caress his horse, waiting for Robb to finish, but his face was covered in dirt and his hair was still sweaty. He took off his underwear and got in the water, trying to hide his shivering. He wasn’t ashamed of his nudity, and neither was Robb. They had already grown up, their bodies were now adult bodies, and they had nothing to hide. Besides, they had seen each other naked a few times before.

“So, w-what do you think are you going to receive on your nameday?”

Robb would turn seventeen in a few days.

“I don’t know. If my father wasn’t my father, I would think he is going to give me a prostitute to finally become a man.”

Theon laughed, inevitably. He had already become a man, not long ago. A handmaiden had agreed and they had fucked in an empty stable. It had been quick, but oh, how Theon had enjoyed it.

“Stop laughing”, Robb splashed Theon before bursting into laughter along with Theon. “I… I don’t know if I’m ready to do it.”

“Oh, come one. You have been ready for it since you started masturbating, Robb.” Theon loved the confidence between them. He could never talked to Jon as he talked to Robb.

“It’s not the same! What if it… it doesn’t… you know?”

Theon rolled his eyes. “Robb, stop being so dumb. You could get erect right now just with the thought of Old Nan.”

They laughed again, harder than before.

“Would you prefer to do it with someone close?” Theon ventured to ask, swimming towards Robb a few centimetres.

“I guess so. I know she’s still young, but Jeyne, Sansa’s friend, do you know her?”

“Robb, she could be your sister. You’re gross.” Theon half-joked, raising one eyebrow.

“I’m not saying I’ll do it with her! I’m just saying that maybe, in the future… but I don’t want to wait that much.”

“Well, there are some maids… they are older than us, but they could do it.”

“With you, maybe. But with me… what if father finds out?”

“What if he does? So, he has the right to fuck villagers when he goes to war, but you can’t do it with a maid?”

He had talked too much. Robb looked at Theon slightly open-mouthed and he swam backwards. Some seconds later, he frowned.

“He is still my father, you know? The man who feeds you? The man who allowed you to fuck that handmaiden?”

Theon knew he had to remain calm. He wouldn’t be there if his father hadn’t started that dumb rebellion, so why did he have to be thankful? He was a ward, not another Stark children. Did he actually owed something to Lord Stark, apart from being taken from his family, his home, regardless of what his father had done? But he didn’t want to argue with Robb, the one he felt more affection for and from.

“You are lucky that he hasn’t killed you, or sent you to work, collecting firewood and shit like that. You are fucking lucky…”

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Theon interrupted the brunette and got close to him with just two strokes. He even dared to place the hands on his shoulders before embracing his neck.

“Okay, Theon, stop it.” Robb ordered, but all the forenamed did was move closer to him, until both bodies touched each other. It was a warm sensation now that they were accustomed to the river’s temperature.

“Why should I?”, he murmured.

“Because… I don’t know. I forgive you, okay? I understand your feelings about my father. About my family. About me.”

“About you? Are you sure?”

“You don’t hate me because I’m the one your age here, and the one who wants to spend time with you. Yes, I understand that, Theon.” Robb placed his hands on Theon’s sides. Puberty and hunting had made him fit, muscled, with more muscle fat than himself. He liked it, even though it sounded strange on his mind. Robb had actually spent months trying to figure out if he liked boys, too. Was it attraction or curiosity when he peaked at Theon’s body whenever they shared a room? If it were curiosity, he wouldn’t feel his cock shaking for seconds.

Theon felt a bit offended by that words even though they were true. He was ugly, independently of his now mature body, and sometimes he talked way more than he should. And most of his jokes weren’t funny. But was he so terrible? Was Robb spending time with him just because he was lonely, because he didn’t have fun with his brothers? Was he using him?

“Yeah, well, I thought I was something else. Not just someone to use because I’m your age.”

“What is wrong with you now, Theon? It’s the truth. If you were eight years old today, we wouldn’t be here. I didn’t mean it in a disrespectful way. Just… a true one. Do I have fun with you? Well, yeah. Someone else would have ignored you after the way you treated father. And we both know this hasn’t been the first time.”

Theon looked down, staring at Robb’s chest, his recently-grown brunette hair between his pecs, browner because of the water. Robb was the only one that knew how to control him. More than Eddard. Better said, Robb was the only one that could subdue him, make him submissive.

“You know how honest I am. Your father does things that I don’t like, and I’m sure he feels the same about me. I’m done pretending. Let me be myself when we’re alone, Robb, please.” Theon demanded. Now it was him who freed Robb’s neck and got away from his body. Not even the cold current he came across with was able to regulate his body temperature. That little cuddle with Robb, if one could call it a cuddle, had awakened something on his body and he didn’t want Robb to know. Not in the middle of an argument, anyway.

“Then why do you act so surprised about it? You are honest, I get it. Sansa wouldn’t allow that honesty in front of her. I do. That’s why I said that I’m the only one that can spend time with you. Because I put up with you, in the nicest way you can think of.”

Theon nodded. Robb left him speechless because he was right.

“So, back at it, how is your perfect woman? For your first time, I mean.”

Robb mumbled. “I don’t know… I think… a bit shorter than me, with good breasts… No, no, I don’t care about the breasts, I prefer good hips. And good buttocks. I’d like to have something to grab, you know what I mean. Actually, tits are secondary.” Theon was grinning. He had talked with Robb about girls, about sex, but never in such an explicit way. His cock was now far from being flaccid, but he felt lucky that water didn’t make it noticeable. Though, was he excited because of the girl he described, or because of the words that followed? “And I would like to make it in a table. I know it would be uncomfortable at the end, at that point we would use the mattress, but… I don’t know, I love the idea of doing it in a bed. She would be lying face up, her legs against my torso, while I thrusted her.”

Robb was blushing, and Theon found it cute. He would never blush if sex was the topic of a conversation.

“Where would you like to cum?” Theon wanted to know, curious. He spoke in a whisper, for he had closed the space between them again. This time he stayed beside him so that his erection wouldn't reach Robb’s abdomen. He ignored that Robb was also hard.

“Can I say on the mouth?” Robb giggled, blushing more.

“Why not? I mean, who wouldn’t!?” Theon was trying to soothe Robb, making him understand that sex was a usual topic. Well, maybe sex was, not sex positions or places where he would cum.

“Yeah, well… it’s a bit gross, but I guess we all wish that. Maybe even girls?”

“Don’t try to excuse yourself, Robb. It’s normal. Although coming in her torso is also good, especially if it reaches her tits.”

“Did you cum in her tits?” Curiosity was killing Robb, and his tone of voice betrayed him.

“Oh, yeah.” He didn’t. He came all over his back, staining the lower part of the dress she was wearing at the time and that she had rolled up to her shoulders.

“And does it feel good? Doing it? Does it hurt?”

“It’s definitely different than the hand… it didn’t hurt me, at least. There was some pressure, but I think that’s typical. Just until her fluids appear.” Or maybe it was because he hadn’t prepared her. There had been no foreplay. Theon had been eager to penetrate her, so he did the minute he arrived at the stable. He hadn’t had sex with anyone else since then, so he hadn’t had the chance to explore a girl’s body, to do it as he was supposed to.

“And did she like it?” Robb was now closer to Theon than before. One more move and their glans would hit each other.

“Hum, of course. In fact, we’re trying to repeat it.” She had liked it, in a way. It had been consensual sex, but she was expecting something tenderer. She never complained or said no, she was just taken by surprise and had to take a bit longer to get used to Theon’s cock.

“I wish someone taught all this stuff. Father gave me some advices, a couple of years ago, in case it came up, but it wasn’t really helpful. I wish you could teach me. Be a good brother.” He joked.

“Oh, I could.” Theon wasn’t joking. “Oh,” he repeated. He was going to hug Robb when their erections got together. Robb’s neck and ears and cheeks turned red.

“For gods’ sake, forgive me.” The brunette placed his hands on Theon’s chest to propel himself backwards, away from Theon.

“Hey, I think this is normal. We are two young boys willing to have sex. We have said too much, and… well…” Theon shrugged. His right hand sank and he looked for his own erection. He stroked himself, gasping from relief.

“But…. you are like my brother, this is… wrong.”

“It wasn’t wrong in that inn.”

They both stayed silent until Robb dared to talk.

“We didn’t touch each other… that’s different.”

“Wait, were you thinking about me then?”

“Were you?”

It had been a year ago, when their hormones were at their most uncontrollable point. They felt it even when they didn’t know that their body had that kind of things. They were travelling to Karhold because of Rickard’s nameday, but a heavy rain had made them and their retinue stop in an inn near the shore of The Last River, past the Lonely Hills. The inn was big, but some people had to share rooms. Theon and Robb were two of those people. Luckily, the other siblings were together in another chamber, and no one interrupted them. All they did was masturbate in the darkness of night. They started talking about sex, in a more moderate way than the day in the river, and ended up masturbating. They didn’t talk during the act, but Theon got harder, if that was possible, at the thought of Robb jacking off on the bed next to his. They panted together, moaned together, and even came almost at the same time. “We have to repeat this”, they whispered, laughing, but it never happened. Not in Winterfell. It was impossible.

“Maybe I was,” Theon continued, “I don’t know. The idea of you touching yourself at the same time was hot, yes.”

“I don’t know what to think right now.”

“It’s okay. I’ll go and relieve myself, if I may.”

He needn’t Robb’s approval, but he waited for it anyway. When Robb nodded, Theon swam to the shore, where he sat. Water covered now half his legs, and sun gave his paleness a special touch. His skin acquired a violet tone, his nipples became yet more pinkish and his blonde hair seemed to shine. His cock became magical to Robb, surrounded by a lilac halo that made it even attractive, appetising. The Stark licked his own lips before he bit the inferior one. He gasped and finally took his own cock, still underwater.

Theon grinned again, a triumphant smile, as if he have been planning all that for days. He was already masturbating, with a slow peace, his right hand stroking his cock as it went up to the base of it glans and softening the grip as it went down to the base of his member.

It wasn’t long until Robb joined him, sitting by his left side with a small distance between them. Theon purposely opened his legs wider so that his left foot could touch Robb’s right one. Theon looked at the Stark.

His skin was darker than Theon’s, therefore it was acquiring a purple tone, darker than the lilac reflecting on Theon’s skin. He looked at Robb’s muscles – the boy was thinner than him, with less muscle flat, but his muscles seemed to be more fit. He felt the unavoidable necessity of caressing his abdominals, of running his fingers through that brownish-almost-golden pubic hair, of biting and licking his nipples to see how they reacted. But he couldn’t. He just knew it. So he let his imagination get lost in that fantasies before increasing the speed of the hand job.

 Robb was thinking the same, but with fear. How could he like boys? How could his father and mother take it? They didn’t need to know, of course. But what if they found out? What if he was deprived of his ruling right? His thoughts would dissipate with a simple look at Theon. His eyes wandered on Theon’s treasure trail, that blond line of hair that widened before bursting into a sea of also blond and curly pubic hair. His balls were almost fully sank in the water, but Robb could still see that they were also covered in a layer of hair. He moaned at the thought of what would they feel and taste on his own mouth.

Theon had closed his eyes and was now out of control, his hand running up and down his cock faster than he could ever remember. His body shook and his abdomen shrank from time to time, but he was doing his best to control and delay his cum. “Robb”, he would whisper every time he moaned. Yes, he liked boys. He now accepted it. Or at least, he liked Robb. He hadn’t found any other boy attractive for then, so he liked Robb. Maybe liking boys in general was a bit of an exaggeration.

He sat straight, not leaning on his left hand anymore. Instead, he placed that arm on Robb’s shoulders and wildly pulled him towards his own face. He started to kiss him. His first true kiss. He hadn’t kissed the handmaiden, he had barely licked the corners of her mouth, and the others girls in Winterfell and its surrounds didn’t seemed very interested in kissing him. Theon wasn’t thinking about Robb’s feelings. He just wanted to come while they were kissing. He placed his lips on Robb’s and after accommodating to them, he used his tongue. He explored Robb’s mouth. But it didn’t last long. It became a dirty exchange of saliva and moans as well as whisperings of the other one’s name, both mouths opened and put together while their tongues fought and danced with each other.

Theon leaned himself against his left hand again, without separating his lips from Robb’s mouth. His body shook harder than ever. Quickly, he put all of his weight into his left arm so he could lift, helping himself with his feet. He bent towards Robb and with violent shakes and deep groans, he came in Robb’s abdomen, cock and hand. He smiled when the Stark didn’t complain or move aside. He looked down as he stroked himself slowly, emptying himself over his almost brother’s body. The noises Robb’s hand job made now that his semen was acting as a lubricant were even dirtier than before, and Theon feared he would get hard again now that his penis was slowly becoming flaccid again.

He went to his original position, with the difference that he laid down. His clean hand started to caress Robb’s lower back, and he found himself smiling when his fingers went through a thin and almost invisible layer of hairs. In a few years, he imagined, they would be as dark as the rest of his body hair, maybe even travelling down his buttocks and cleft to protect a sacred hole. It was his turn to receive. He gasped when Robb’s hot, thick cum landed on his stomach and his groin, slipping through his pubic hair, past his balls, to the water itself. He chuckled, for it tickled. He looked at Robb’s face before it was too late and he missed it. His mouth was opened, trying to restrain a deep moan that ended filling the whole woods, and the rest of his muscles –biceps, abdominals, pectorals, even his buttocks, Theon thought– strengthened for a few seconds, giving Robb a more muscled aspect.

“You shouldn’t have kissed me”, he whispered as he laid besides Theon, upon his arm, dangerously close to his chest.

“Shut up, you liked it.” Theon swallowed a few times. He could still taste Robb in his mouth.

Darkness embraced them in the next minutes. They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to. Would they ever do that again? Would they ever go beyond? Theon wanted to. Robb was still thinking about it. He didn’t mind Theon’s cum or his scent. In fact, he liked it. Maybe, only maybe, they would repeat that in the future. And maybe, if he didn’t become a man sooner than later, he would ask Theon _things_. Just things.

They went into the water again. His clothes were still a bit wet, but at least they weren’t covered in mud and luckily they would dry in their way to Winterfell. They were late for dinner, and they would be punished for it, but they didn’t mind. Not after that refreshing experience.


	8. Chapter 8

Theon looked at himself in the mirror, a slight smile decorating his face. He still didn’t believe that Robb’s cum had been in his body a few days ago. He remembered it almost as if it had been a dream: the woods, a lake, nothing but themselves in the dream… Okay, he needed to stop. He would fall in love with him if he kept going. But he indeed loved him. As his best friend. As his brother. He would never cross the line of liking him as something else, and he was okay with it. In fact, it would make things much easier in the future.

He passed his fingers along his own abdomen, imagining Robb’s seed on it. He smiled again, showing his imperfect teeth. He shook his head before going into the water and taking a bath. If they told him to return to the Islands that night, he would refuse. He had a friend, a brother, to take care of.

They had dinner, a simple one, before going to bed. Their life was simple, and Theon enjoyed the family moments even when he wasn’t fond of Ned. They weren’t his family, he knew it. He had simply adjusted to that life. And it was going well. For now.

He slept in his own room. It wasn’t as big and luxury as the one the Starks slept in, but he didn’t complain. As Robb had said, he was lucky. Maybe another lord had put him in the stables to work from sun to sun. He got into his bed and started to toss and turn, unable to sleep. He wanted to masturbate, but he didn’t find the will to do it. He hadn’t touched himself since the incident in the lake, and he didn’t feel like it. As if he had become dependent on Robb. That thought scared him a bit.

He got up with a deep sigh. He couldn’t sleep, of course. And thinking of Robb wouldn’t help. He put on his woollen coat and stepped out the room. His plan was to take his bow and hunt in the darkness, but he would have to avoid sentinels and guards for it. And besides, if Ned and Catelyn knew… who knows what his fate would be.

Before he realised, he was in front of Robb’s door. He looked at his sides. The corridors were empty. He stepped forward and opened the door, very carefully. He couldn’t see anything, but just the thought of Robb sleeping under the sheets made him smile. He imagined he would look cute.

“Come in”, Theon heard a whisper.

He gasped and jumped. “Fucking idiot”, he whispered back before he stepped in his room and closed the door. “I can’t sleep.”

“I can see that. Me neither.” Robb yawned, and Theon thought he was lying.

“I didn’t to disturb you, Robb. I was just…”

“Going out of the castle? You know that’s forbidden. And father wouldn’t like it a bit. Besides, you stood at my door for a while” it hadn’t been actually that much, “so you didn’t seem to have the intention of leaving. What is troubling you, Theon?”

Robb sounded interested. He was.

“Nothing. It’s just one of those nights when you simply can’t sleep.”

Robb moved under the sheets, stretching his muscles.

“I don’t believe you, but it’s fine. Come, sit down.” Robb had sit up, laying his back on the header of the bed.

Theon took off his coat, for it was warm in that chamber, and walked to Robb’s bed. His eyes had already got used to the lack of light. He sat on the border of the mattress.

“We are still… friends, right?” Theon broke the silence.

“Why?”

Theon snorted. “Really, Robb?” He turn his face even though they could barely see each other. They could at least smell each other.

“Oh, _that_.”

“Yes, that.”

“It’s okay, Theon. We jerked off.” He had never heard Robb speaking in such an informal way, and it managed to turn him on for a few seconds. “What’s the deal? I think boys our age do it. Maybe they don’t come on their friend’s lap, but that’s okay, I did it too.”

“No, I know it’s okay, I just… maybe you wanted some distance. Like, I don’t usually come on people’s lap, just so you know. I think that makes you special. Anyway,” he thanked that it was dark, because he blushed like never before, “if you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

“Of course I’m okay with masturbating, Theon. I just did it in front of you. What’s the point? Did _you_ not like it? Because you were the fir…”

“I loved it!” Theon didn’t let Robb finish his sentence, and if he had screamed just a little bit more, he would have woken up everyone. “I loved it, I was just worried that you didn’t.”

“I did. Don’t overthink it, Theon. These things happens, like threesomes and stuff like that.”

“So, did you like my…?”

“Ugh, Theon, you are just like always. I don’t like your penis because I don’t like penises.”

“Then why in the first place did you get hard?”

“Because we were talking about fucking and girls and cumming in their bodies, okay!?” Now it was Robb who had raised his voice.

“Okay, calm the fuck down, Robert. I did like your cock.”

Silence filled his head. «Shit», he thought. That would be the only time that he would ever say something that similar to ‘I like boys too’ for now. It had been unintentional, but he trusted Robb, and in fact he took that secret to the tomb.

“So… that’s what you meant when you said if I wanted to become a man with someone close?” Robb had been thinking, but he had never thought until then that maybe Theon was talking about himself.

“What? No, no… I don’t like to… you know, I don’t like being the girl.”

“Oh, okay.” Was it disappointment he hard in Robb’s voice? Or relief?

“You wouldn’t have to, if you don’t like boys, you know? Like, I wouldn’t force to do it if I liked to do it. I’m not like that.” Not with Robb, at least.

“Of course, of course.” And then, after a long pause, with their breathings now synchronised: “Will you stay? Let’s call it an early birthday present.”

“What would your maidens say?”

“I used to sleep with Jon when we were younger if any of us had any nightmare. I’ll sacrifice myself, don’t worry.” Robb hit Theon’s biceps with his fist closed after he joked.

The islander undressed until he was on a white shirt and his sleeping underwear, longer and thicker than the one he used with usual clothes. He got into bed, facing the side of the mattress he had been sitting on until recently. Robb pulled him closer, making Theon gasp again.

“You’ll fall if you stay so close to the border. I won’t bite.”

But Theon noticed that he hadn’t let his hip go, and in fact they slept almost hugged. Not that he would complain.

“What are you going to give me for my nameday?”

“Oh. Just a surprise.” He hadn’t bought anything. He had never did, so why would he that year?

“Hmm. I hope it’s a good one.” Robb’s voice was sleepy, but Theon could still sense his naughtiness. He got nervous.

 

When he woke up it was dawn. The maidens wouldn’t come for almost another two hours. He had plenty of time to sneak out of the room and go to his own one. He rubbed his eyes while yawning a few times. When he was stretching his muscles, he felt something hard on his lower back. «Oh, no», he thought. Morning erections were usual, he knew it, but if he kept moving maybe he woke Robb. Or made him come. He didn’t know what was worse.

Preoccupied as he was for Robb’s erection, he had ignored his own underwear. When he moved forward, trying to get free from his almost-brother’s hand, he felt something sticky. He instantly blushed. He pulled apart the sheet and looked at the big, wet spot on his crotch. The scent didn’t take long to reach his nostrils. “Oh, boy”, he murmured.

He thought of taking them off, but that meant moving more. His breath got faster and when he tried to turn, so that he would drag himself off bed, Robb made his grip harder. He mumbled something.

“Huh?”, Theon dared to ask.

“Gooo… moah… in…”

“Oh, yeah, good morning, Robb”, he whispered.

“Sorry…” Robb managed to say when he noticed his erection resting upon Theon’s body.

“It’s okay. It happens to me, too.”

“Oh, you are so understanding, Theon…”

Robb sit up straight, until he could stand on one of his elbows. His free hand looked for Theon’s grin. When he held it, he turn his face and leaned down to his lips. They started to kiss. Was that his reward for sleeping there? Or for being so understanding?

Theon turn towards Robb to be more comfortable, and he also lifted his torso to be at the same height as the Stark. Robb shouldn’t have started this, he thought. He continued kissing him, until his lungs breathed for air. He took some breaths, but it was Theon himself who started the new kiss. Now he took one more step and sit up on Robb’s lap, trying not to hurt his erection.

“We can’t do this. We are like brothers.”

“One day you’ll return to Pyke, Theon. We will lose contact, we will eventually stop writing letters, so what’s the point of not enjoying this? This will not hunt us. These will be some good memories. We will live our own lives, taking delight in our past, and nothing else. No one knows about it, and no one will. Promise me.”

He bit Theon’s lip. If he had been fiercer, Theon would have bled.

“I promise, Robb. I promise.”

A few minutes later, they were both lying on the bed, fully naked. They were masturbating not themselves but each other. They had never touched someone else’s cock, but they enjoyed it and got used to it soon. Every now and then Theon would lift his hips, thinking Robb’s hand was his butthole adapted to his cock thickness. Cum reached their necks, their chests. They were forced to moan in a low voice, which made the experience even more memorable.

“I hate you,” Theon whispered before he turn towards Robb to hug his chest. He didn’t mind staining his arm with Robb’s cum.

“You don’t.” That was all Robb whispered back.

Luckily, they didn’t fall asleep. They simply stayed hugged, sort of cuddling. Theon would kiss his chest and Robb would caress his hair. Yes, Robb knew Theon was right. They couldn’t do that. But it felt so fucking good. So they would continue doing it until it was simply impossible.

When the maidens arrived Theon had already left the room. Was that his routine now? Touching Robb and in front of Robb because none of them had the guts to use the mouth, or what wasn’t the mouth? It would become tiring, and he wouldn’t want that. He had to think of something else. So he started to speak to several maidens.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last flashback, I promise!!  
> My inspiration was a bit off so it's a short chapter. After this I'll continue with the story, playing with the present and the past with Ramsay, and I will TRY to update it weekly.

Time went on. Their relationship didn’t change. They were closer than before, but they didn’t cross the line. They masturbated together a couple of times more, but that was it. Theon felt good. For that age, he didn’t want anything else. Besides, he had assumed that one day his roads would split: Robb was the heir of Winterfell, and he one day would need to return home and, who knows, maybe even take the throne of his father.

“He will listen to you. Believe me.” Robb was trying to comfort Theon, to convince him of going to Pyke. There, he would talk to his father Balon to forge an alliance and attack Lannisport with the Iron Fleet.

“We haven’t seen each other in ten years. And I don’t think he has a good opinion of you – not you personally, but the North and whoever rules it.”

All of a sudden, Theon didn’t want to take the step he had been willing to take for years. He felt insecure about going there because of how his father would react. And he didn’t want to separate from Robb, but he would never say that out loud.

Robb poured Theon’s cup, who drank it almost in one go. “I know,” the now King in the North said, “but he will also win something. If he accepts to work with us, he will receive his long wished independence.”

The islander tilted his head, pensive. “But what if Lannisport beat us? What if he loses the Iron Fleet?”

“Oh, come on. Lannisport wouldn’t expect the ironmen and the Northmen to ally. When they see the boats coming, they will have no time to prepare their defences.”

Theon was still hesitant. He drank the rest of the wine and refilled the cup himself, avoiding Robb’s eyes.

“He hates you. He will betray you the minute he can.”

“That’s why you are there, Theon. I trust you. You will stop him at time if he even thinks about rebelling again.”

Robb was now looking for Theon’s eyes. He had to take his chin to raise his head. _Look at me_ , Robb’s eyes seemed to implore.

“Of course you can trust me. But… he is my father. Besides, he won’t listen to me. Not after all this time. Not after being taken by your father.” He shook his head to free himself from Robb’s grip and looked down again, drinking as if that was his last supper ever.

“Theon, when he sees the man you have become, he will listen to you.” That made Theon smile, and if he was just a little more introverted, he would have blushed. “You will depart tomorrow. Lord Jason Mallister and Patrek Mallister will escort you. Once in Seagard, you will go home.”

Theon finished his cup for the millionth time.

“Okay. I will do it. I will even try to write you once I’m there. My lord.” Theon stood up and bowed his torso.

“Come on, Theon, we are alone. You don’t need to do that. Not you. Farewell, Theon.”

The ironborn assumed Robb wouldn’t say goodbye to him next morning. He preferred it that way.

“Thank you, Robb.”

He tried not to bow again. When he was about to turn and leave the tent, Robb placed his right arm in Theon’s left elbow and approached him. He kissed Theon, nervously. The islander was a better kisser, so he took control of the kiss. Their breathings accelerated, but they didn’t want to stop. Theon took his hands to Robb’s sides and started to walk with him, until the Northmen sat on a table.

They didn’t talk. They continued kissing each other. With each kiss, one of their clothes disappeared. Theon wanted to fuck him and blow him. He knew it. But he contained himself and, as usual, they just masturbated each other. This time they kissed each other’s neck, chest, abdomen, they played with each other’s nipples until they came, staining both bodies. It seemed that, subconsciously, both men knew they wouldn’t see each other again so they had to enjoy that night, going further than ever.

“Farewell, Theon.” Robb repeated once they were clean and dressed again.

“Thank you, Robb.” Theon said again.

They hugged as if nothing had just happened. It had been a long, fulfilling friendship, and Theon would always remember it as a central part of his life. He didn’t have to repress certain feelings and thoughts he did repress in other situations – he felt full with Robb.

 

In the loneliness of the nights, among the big and great walls of Winterfell, he would regret his movements. He had “betrayed” his father, disobeying his orders, and he had betrayed Robbed. He felt powerful, and he liked it… at least until the Boltons arrived. That was the moment he regretted everything – even having been born. He missed Robb. He missed the old days in general.

Who was his captor? Why did he play with him like that? Why did he find pleasure in such a despicable actions? At that moment, when Ramsay first raped him –when he first raped Reek, better said–, he wasn’t able to imagine that he would like it in the future. He would find pleasure in that things with Ramsay thanks to Robb, imagining he was there. It didn’t work as much as he would like to, but it seemed effective. He liked boys. He just didn’t like Ramsay. If he hadn’t treated him like that… who knows what would have happened.


	10. Chapter 10

He had been foolish enough to believe that Ramsay would be nicer to him after his actions on Moat Caitlin. They were staying there for a few days, maybe so that Ramsay could ensure his power over that territory to please his father.

Reek was Reek again. He was imprisoned in a cell far less comfortable than the one in the Dreadfort. His hands and feet were tied to some chains stuck to the cold wall of stone. He could only move two steps forward and a few centimetres back, sticking his back to the wall. If he wasn’t accustomed to that position, if the posts from Moat Caitlin weren’t a cross, his shoulders would be burning from pain.

Not very far away he could hear Ramsay’s dogs and bitches barking, breaking the silence that the, as time went by, darker night offered. Was that his reward? Going back to his origins? Or was his master going to send him a prostitute? He had proven him that he could still get erect, and he had proved it in the worst possible scenario, sucking Ramsay’s cock. Or, better said, choking on it, because he would never want that. Or would he?

Reek closed his eyes.

Had he fallen asleep? When he opened them it was darker. Some rhythmical whistles had woken him up, and dogs were now barking further away. Along with the whistles there was some jingle that could only be coming from keys. From someone playing with keys.

“Good night, my little dog.” Ramsay’s voice made him moan out of disgust. He knew what was coming. With the exception that, this time, he didn’t. “Oh, come one, cheer up! I promised you a reward, didn’t I? If I didn’t… would you believe that I would treat you the way I always do after all this? You deserve great things now, my faithful bitch.”

“O-of course, my lord… master…”

“Of course, what, Reek?” Ramsay voice was angrier, fiercer, and he had even placed his hands on the bars of the cell with violence. Reek thought he would break them like the monster he was.

“Of course… of course I… deserve… that reward, my lord…?” Reek’s voice wa getting lower as he spoke, afraid of the consequences. Of course he should have shut up.

“Oh, if you are so sure about it, why haven’t you reclaimed it? Why haven’t you begged for it?”

Ramsay was talking at the same time he was opening the door. He was moving his hand so quickly that the rest of the keys crashed into one another. A sound as normal as that was now scaring Theon, as if it was announcing his final days. His final minutes. Ramsay entered the cell and gave big and quick steps to reach Reek. “Answer me!”

“I-I don’t know, master… my lord… Because… I didn’t do it because I’m no one to reclaim such treatments. I don’t deserve any reward unless you, my lord, want to give it to me. Only then I know I deserve it, and I accept it.”

Ramsay wasn’t completely convinced of that argument, but he was tired of his dog’s shaky voice. Without saying anything else for now, he took out one of his favourite daggers, and tore Reek’s shirt open. In the process, the point of the dagger ran down Theon’s skin, threatening to make him a long scar that went across his whole torso. But Ramsay didn’t think it was necessary. The one on his groin was beautiful enough.

The bastard ripped the rest of the shirt, leaving him shirtless. Theon wasn’t ready for another session of sex. Did Ramsay never get tired of it? Was he as depraved as he seemed? As Reek came across these thoughts, the dagger was tearing apart the trousers. Soon, he was exposed before Ramsay. As he had been so many times before that. What usually was a belt, of Ramsay’s rough hands, was now the knife. It travelled across his body, caressing it as if it was the finger of a prostitute, or even a girl in love with him. He shivered whenever the pressure changed, and he would look down to see if blood erupted from him. But it didn’t.

“It’s so beautiful…”

The touch on his skin changed. It was rough indeed, but far more comforting than the point of a knife. Ramsay’s index and middle finger were following the scar on his groin. It was far away from being a piece of art, but the bastard found it beautiful.

“Would you like another one, Reek?”

“No, sir, my lord…”

“Then behave. But you already know that, of course…”

Ramsay licked his fingers before he continued caressing his scar. His touch was now wet and softer. It was starting to make Theon feel things. He took his head back, until it touched the wall, and he looked at the ceiling. An almost inaudible moan left his mouth. His scrotum was tickling and his dick got harder. He didn’t have a hard on, not yet, but it increased its size. He wanted to avoid that. How was it possible that he could get erect with such a simple movement? Was he missing _normal_ sex so much that a simple touch excited him? The answer, that frightened him, was yes. Even if that was still a rape, it was different. His body was more receptive about it.

He felt Ramsay’s lips on his neck. One kiss. Two kisses. Three kisses. One lick, leaving him with a trail of hot, thick and viscous saliva. One kiss. Two kisses. Teeth biting one of his nipples, playing with it, pulling from them until not only they got hard but until they started to hurt. Theon wanted to complain, but he moaned because of the pain… and because of the tickling sensation that was making his cock getting hard.

Reek tried to picture Robb there, as usual. This time, the image lasted a few seconds. No, Robb wouldn’t smell like that. It was Ramsay. And he accepted it. A deeper moan left his body when he assumed that Ramsay, the bastard, was doing that. Not Robb. Ramsay. Ramsay. Ramsay.

The aforesaid played with the other nipple for less time before he continued going down. One kiss. Two kisses. Three kisses. Six kisses. One lick on his pubic hair. Several kisses around the base of his member. Then, there came the playing with his balls. Had Ramsay done that before?, was all Theon could think of. They were bigger than usual because he hadn’t come in a while, so he was amazed and surprised when he felt both of them inside Ramsay’s mouth. He licked them, suckled them, grazed them with his teeth with an unbelievable carefulness. Reek was enjoying, but fear was also occupying a great part of his brain. What if he bite them? What if he took his scrotum and pulled down, until only his cock would inhabit his groin? And yet those moments never came.

Ramsay left his testicles and started to lick his member, first concentrating on the base and then licking all the way up to that glowing red glans. Ramsay placed it in his mouth and sucked it. He would wet it with his mouth before he suckled it, as if he was already requiring Theon’s cum.

Reek didn’t know what to do. After a few moans, and when he started to feel his cock invading Ramsay’s mouth, he moved backwards, until only part of his glans stayed in Ramsay’s mouth. He knew, deep down, he shouldn’t have done that. But he didn’t want to get sucked by such a monster. And even tied up, he would fight it. He thought he would fight it. One of Ramsay’s hands moved through the ground until he found what he had dropped before. The dagger. With a quick move, he stabbed Reek’s closest thigh. He had avoided the bone, sticking it into the leftovers of his once firm muscle. The islander screamed from the top of his lungs, he screamed so high, so full of pain, that his voice broke.

“That will make you still.” Ramsay’s face was decorated by a big, ugly grin. He had done it so hard that also part of the handle had gotten into his skin. That was the price for being a bad dog, for not accepting his reward. “That would teach you to be more obedient, to be more fucking thankful.”

Afterwards, Ramsay went on with his task. He didn’t mind Theon sobbing. He didn’t mind his moans, some of them pleasure ones. He sucked him, barely choking on it even though it was, objectively speaking, a big cock. The wet noises provoked by the saliva accumulated in his mouth echoed on the whole cell, but he didn’t mind. His hands travelled up and down Theon’s torso, torturing his nipples, scratching his skin until he felt him bleeding or simply caressing him, pressing his fingertips on his skin out of excitement.

“Ahhh, fuck, my lord…” Reek murmured now and then. His hand were opening and closing in fists, and his hands moved back and forth a few centimetres. He didn’t dare to move his hips even though he was wishing to face fuck him, even if it was just for revenge. But it wasn’t revenge. He was a good sucker. He was even better than the daughter of the captain of the boat that had taken him back to Pyke a few years ago. But that was a distant memory, so blurred that he thought he had dreamt it.

The dirty, echoed sounds of Ramsay’s saliva were soon silenced by Reek’s moans. They filled the cell along with the jingle of the chains that restrained him. When pleasure was too much to bear he would tense the few muscles that still were visible on his body, flexing his arms forward until the chains stopped him. Maybe it was an attempt to reach Ramsay’s hair, so that he could notice how much he was liking it. He would have to be content with his moans. Sincere moans.

“Ah… ah-ah… master… ah-ah-ah…” His moans were now intermittent, all of them eager to be heard more than the previous one, whenever Ramsay choked on his cock or simply suckled his glans.

He screamed again. It was pleasure that time. A few streams of cum burst into Ramsay’s mouth. The rest of them ended up on his chin, for he had let his cock go and had helped him finish with his hand. When Reek stopped coming, he sucked him again, for a few seconds, just to enjoy the suffering moans of his dog, the way his body shook in an attempt to make him stop. Did he even recognise a laughter somewhere?

Ramsay stood up. “Clean me.” Theon leaned his head forward and started to lick his master’s chin. He seemed like a thirsty, desperate dog. He even licked his lips, in case there were some drops of semen left. He swallowed it even before Ramsay ordered it.

“I wish all my dogs were like you. Did you like your reward, Reek?”

Reek nodded. He had enjoyed it, indeed. He shouldn’t have had, but he did anyways.

“Yes, master.”

“And all you have to do is behave. Oh, and take care of that. I’m not going to take care of a fucking dog.” Theon understood what he was talking about only when Ramsay took the handle of the dagger and pulled back with the same violence and speed he had stabbed him with. Theon would have fallen to the ground if he wasn’t tied. He would start to cry soon. Pain was now unbearable, and blood started to decorate his leg.

“Please, my lord, please… just help me bandage it… Please, please!” The last word got mixed with sobs that ended up in a loud cry with some random screams. He got tired soon, and he fell unconscious.

When he woke up, he was on the ground, still naked. At last he was alive, and when he looked at his leg, he saw it bandaged with the trousers Ramsay had ripped off of him. A silly smile invaded his mouth.

 

Why did he smile? He was tortured with so many questions. He hit his face several times, holding his desire of screaming until he went mute. He got interrumpted by the door, opened abruptly.

“Theon, Theon, wake up! Oh…” It was Asha’s voice. He rushed towards him, kneeling by himself. He took his brother’s hands with a bit of excitement. “Guess who’s coming.”

Theon contemplated his sister with the light of dawn. He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a small fleet. Come on, you know who I’m talking about. You adore each other.”

He thought of his uncles. No, it couldn’t be one of his still living uncles. He thought of the Stark. They probably hated him so much that it was impossible his sister showed so much enthusiasm for one of them.

“You idiot,” there was affection on Asha’s voice, Theon could feel it, “it’s Dagmer. Do you remember him, the good uncle Dagmer?”

Asha hadn’t seen Theon so happy for years, maybe since he was taken from them. Then came the crying, although it was a happy one.

“Uncle is here, Theon.” Asha comforted him when they hugged. Theon was crying and laughing at the same time even though his smile wasn’t the same as it was before – it was uglier because of the monster everyone knew about.

Maybe that was the solution, Asha thought. She would find it out in a few days.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please have in mind that I haven't read the books in a while –and I haven't read the TWOW chapters that GRRM released– so I decided to make my own version of what happened in and with Winterfell and Asha and Theon.  
> Long live AUs!

Theon felt better than ever, especially when all his recent memories were the terrible things he had suffered by Ramsay. He had been the uncle he had never had, and before he was taken to Winterfell, it had been Dagmer who had taught him and trained him in riding and combat, among other things. When he was planning on taking Winterfell he had expected more obedience from him, although in the end everything went _fine_ , at least until the Boltons got involved. Once he was taken, he never knew from him again. Until that day. Until his sister had brought his name up.

He obeyed his sister and waited until Dagmer and his men finished their breakfast. Theon didn’t want to hear anything about his life and his victories –or defeats– until they were alone. He wouldn’t have joined their breakfast even if he had been hungry. After all, he was still the same sad, depressed man without appetite.

When Dagmer finally joined him, he was carrying a piece of bread and cheese. He offered the meal to Theon after they hugged, after patting each other’s backs.

“It’s good to see you. Here. Someone has told me you haven’t eaten anything yet. It will be good for you.”

“Thank you, u… Dagmer.”

“Uncle. You can say it. I haven’t changed, Theon.” Dagmer laughed, opening his scar in a terrifying way. Luckily for Theon not only he was accustomed to it, but he had lived more horrendous things as to be scared by that scar. Some of the men Dagmer used to fight thought something different.

“So… how is everything, uncle? Asha wouldn’t tell me anything about you… Not even if you were dead or alive.”

“I’m fine, don’t you see me? Besides, what about you?”

“No, uncle. Not now. You first.”

“Okay, as you wish.”

Dagmer then told him what had happened from the moment he had been taken by the Boltons to that same day. After having taken Thorren’s Square when Rodrik and his men marched to Winterfell, he was sent more men to help him defend it. Step by step they started to devastate everywhere they went, with the objective of going to Winterfell and help Theon not only take it but keep it. The news of his captivity and the likely future dominion of the Boltons over Winterfell reached him days before they arrived to the river, with the intention of crossing it. He changed his plans. They would divide forces to take both Winterfell and the Dreadfort, for he didn’t know where the main forces were. Of course, they were stopped. It was a massacre. Dagmer retreated to Thorren’s Square and there, with the control of every nearby small village, he waited to receive any information from Asha. He knew she had lost to her uncle Euron just as he knew that she was a strong girl who would ultimately achieve what she wanted. He was right.

When she was taken by Stannis Baratheon they marched to Winterfell. There was a great battle before them. Dagmer didn’t know exactly how, but she was able to tempt one of Stannis’ men so that she could write a letter. «For my uncle», she lied, «so that he doesn’t worry about me. You don’t want him fighting your lord.» The letter was, of course, to Dagmer. In a few days, despite the snow storms that were devastating the North, they freed Asha and the other captives and took Winterfell, all at the same time. Asha was the one that prevented another battle with Stannis and his men, who in fact outnumbered them. They reached an agreement: the North would pledge allegiance to Stannis, but the ironborn could control the west coast paying a tribute to him. If any of the minor houses would rebel against them, they and not the ironborn would have Stannis’ support. Even as Dagmer told Theon the story, he was reluctant to believe him. He knew for sure that Stannis would use any minor excuse to attack him and have control of the whole North. But up to that day, he hadn’t. Especially because he was dead. Because the North belonged now to Sansa Stark, who, again thanks to Asha, had kept the accord Stannis made – with a new condition. At the least sign of rebellion, every Northern house would rise and attack them.

Theon was silent for a few minutes. They were on a bridge, which swung slowly because of the ocean breeze. As he was listening to the story, he had eaten some cheese. He had forgotten how good it could taste.

“So you were able to keep Thorren’s Square, after all…” Dagmer nodded, proud of himself. He had expected more, maybe half of the North, but that was an exaggeratedly big dream. “And what about… him?”

He knew that part of the story. Both Ramsay and Roose had participated in the battle, but as their numbers fell, they escaped. They took some men, provisions and Ramsay’s favourite dog: Reek. They didn’t even mind about “Arya”. Ramsay was only interested in his dog. And Theon had been afraid. He had good reasons. The following days, in the now empty Dreadfort, he had suffered his worst tortures ever. But that wasn’t the time to remember them.

“Oh, that. Once Winterfell was in our hands… well, in Stannis’ hands, she started to ask about you to every loyal men to the Boltons that was still alive or with their tongues on the right place. They didn’t know. All they knew is that his brother didn’t exist anymore and that the dog who looked like him had escaped with Ramsay. Not taken by him – escaped with him. Asha marched to Dreadfort with some of our best men… and you know the rest of the story.”

Theon nodded, his eyes lost on the horizon. He knew the rest of the story. He took his right hand to his left pectoral. If he concentrated he could ignore his own clothes and feel one of his many scars. That one was very, very close to his heart. In fact, how was he still alive?

 

“You recognize him, don’t you?” Ramsay asked at the same time that he pulled back Reek’s hair, showing his whole face to his sister. To Theon’s sister. Reek could hear iron crashing with more iron on the yards and some of the rooms above him. Seeing Asha awoke Theon, although Reek was still the main ruler of his body.

“Go away. I have no value, there is nothing for you here, ma’am.”

“Look at him. So educated… Aren’t you the best dog in the world, Reek?” Ramsay kissed one of his cheeks up to five times. On his right hand he had a sword pointing towards Asha. On the left one, a dagger sticking into his flesh, so thin that Reek could feel it against his own heart.

“Theon, I am your sister. You know me. I have missed you. Now come home. You don’t belong here.”

“I… I don’t know you, ma’am. Now go. Tell your men to s-stop.” He would stammer whenever Ramsay held his hair harder or push the knife, opening a wound on his flesh.

“Theon, just listen to me. You are the son of Balon Greyjoy. You are not a dog. Come with me.”

“Shut up. You and your men are just being ridiculous. Are you really going to force me to kill my favourite dog?”

Ramsay leaned to kiss him again, dangerously close to the mouth. His eyes were fixed on Asha, but that wasn’t enough. She threw a knife that went right into Ramsay’s left hand. He screamed and pushed the dagger into Reek’s chest. Fortunately, he had lost balance and the dagger avoided his heart. Before Ramsay could use his other hand, raising his arm to stick the sword into Theon’s head –or neck, or shoulder, or wherever he could–, Asha cut the distance between them and stopped his attack. Theon fell to his knees, whining. “Don’t take it out!”, Asha yelled before concentrating on the duel, attacking and counterattacking Ramsay. Even with the knife on his left hand, Ramsay was a good fighter. Not as good as her, but he lasted more than she expected. Asha fell, her face up, and Ramsay jumped towards her, raising now both arms. She wasn’t able to stand up, but she held her sword with both hands and lifted it. Theon heard the sword going through Ramsay’s chest. Asha flipped, and Ramsay started to laugh as he saw her taking out the knife on his left hand to stab him, quickly and full of anger. She wanted him to feel what his brother had felt, although that wasn’t even close.

Only then Theon saw the monster Ramsay was, with his mouth overflowing with blood, the same blood that spilled over his face and reached his long, greasy hair. He had enjoyed the things he had done to him. How had it been possible? How could he have found _that_ attractive? His mind was twisted. Ramsay had just manipulated him. He had made him believe that sex with him was just as good as sex with women, with Robb, even though it had never happened. What had started as rape became consented sex because he found pleasure in being fucked by him, in being sucked and blown by him just because of a fucking manipulation. Yes, that monster had known how to use him. And his sister was helping him to free his demons, his gross thoughts, just by the act of stabbing his former master.

 

“Theon?”

The ironborn jumped. “Forgive me. I… I got lost on my own thoughts.”

“It’s okay. I think I’m going to stay with you for a while. My best men are guarding my new territories, and I think there are a lot of things on your mind that need to be told.”

“No, uncle Dagmer… I’m fine. It’s just that… everything is too recent, you know?”

“That’s just another reason to speak, Theon. The sooner you let it go, the better you will heal. There is a risk of creating your own memories, decorating them so that they don’t seem so terrible, that I don’t want you to take. We will talk whenever you are ready.”

Was he decorating his memories? Was he convincing himself now that he had enjoyed that moments with Ramsay? He turn his face. He didn’t want to cry in front of Dagmer, although the foresaid didn’t mind. Not now.

“I’m not decorating anything, uncle. It’s just that… it’s hard for me to say these kind of things out loud. Just give me time. We could sail tomorrow.”

He turn again with a slight smile on his face. Dagmer remembered the old times even though that smile, without many of his teeth, was completely different than before. “We will”, he assured Theon.

Now everything the Greyjoy had to do was wait until the next day. Once they were sailing the high seas, he would start talking. It would be difficult, but he had to do it. He trusted Dagmer. Dagmer wouldn’t mock him. Dagmer would understand him. Dagmer would take care of him, and if he was lucky, he would even make him strong again. Theon Greyjoy would revive once his mind was free.


	12. Chapter 12

Theon was watching Dagmer training with a bow. Sometimes he would look at his own right hand. He only had three fingers, and the ones he needed for archery were missing.

“Why exactly would he do that? The tortures.”

“How would I know? To… to humiliate me, I guess,” Theon answered, looking at the ground, “or even revenge for what I did to the Starks… well, they weren’t the Starks, but you know…”

“Yes. That was… unwise. But it’s too late to punish you for it, or even judge you. So he spent all those months torturing you? That kid is savage…”

Dagmer tore the arrows off from the wood he was using as a target and he took a double-edged axe. “Take that shield”, he ordered Theon, pointing the wooden shield with the axe itself.

“What? You know… you know I’m weak. I won’t stand your strength.”

“I’ll go easy on you. Come on. You can’t sit there all day. All the muscle you are gaining back will turn to fat if you don’t start exercising again.”

“What for?” Theon, although reluctant, stood up and took the shield. “I mean, the war is over. And I doubt Asha would make me fight if it happens.”

“Don’t be so sure, Theon. Come on.”

Dagmer started to _fight_ Theon, softly. The axe hitting the shield barely did any sound, and Theon could keep up his pace.

“So, tell me. I know this is painful, but… what did he do first?”

Theon didn’t answer. He just held the shield tighter.

“Come on, Theon. You know you can trust me.”

The young one took a deep breath, still moving the shield wherever Dagmer lifted the axe.

“Just… the skin. It hurt, but… it hurt less than what he ended up doing. He loved playing with me and his dagger. That was when he tied me to the posts. When he locked me up… well, I started to feed on rats. It was then when he cut some of my fingers off. I came back to the posts, where… he almost cut my… my dick.” It was being harder than he thought, but at least blocking Dagmer’s attacks was keeping his mind busy. “But he didn’t. He left me a scar on my groin, that’s it. Then I returned to the cell, and when I fed on rats again, he punched my face. Many of my teeth, as you may have seen, fell. I didn’t want to eat what he brought me. It was… awful. Worse than rats. Then I came back to the posts… and there he kept on with the scars… the flaying… and some other finger.”

As Theon was speaking, they were walking in circles. Dagmer discovered that training him made him talk a lot more than just talking while sitting at the table for dinner.

“So that was all? Just… some random torture? Not even in exchange for information?”

Theon was starting to feel tired. He shook his head. He wasn’t ready to talk that much about it. Sex –forced sex– and betrayal. No. Not even with his uncle. And of course, Dagmer suspected things. He had talked to Asha. She hadn’t told him anything, but he wasn’t dumb. If there had been only that kind of torture, his trauma wouldn’t be so big.

“Isn’t that enough for you, uncle?” Theon laughed, bursting into some fake laughter.

“That’s not what I meant, Theon.” He started to hit the shield faster and harder. He was going to test him. “Come on, there is more. I’ve been told… your nightmares… they aren’t normal, are they? You’re hunted by something else…”

Theon started to gasp, but he didn’t put his arm down. He wanted to prove that he could still be useful, even if it was just holding a shield.

“I’m hunted by him in general. He… he is a fucking monster…”

“But why? Because he poked you with a knife? Because he punched your face? You have done worse things, Theon…”

Dagmer was playing with fire, and he knew it. But then again, he would never harm Theon. Neither physically nor mentally.

“I haven’t… I didn’t… I didn’t rape anyone!” At least not the way Ramsay had raped him. “I haven’t fucked anyone so hard that they were bleeding! I haven’t whipped someone’s butt until their flesh was red and flaccid and irritated! I haven’t played with someone up to the point that their reward for a betrayal was a blowjob!”

Each sentence was accompanied by push. He had taken the shield with both hands and as he spoke, he hit Dagmer’s with it. He wasn’t using it to stop the axe anymore, for his uncle had stopped using it.

“That’s it. Let it go, the rage.”

“And… and they surely didn’t end up enjoying it! They aren’t, or would ever be, so miserable! How can someone enjoy such things!? Fucking-answer-me!”

Dagmer stopped resisting. The last hit made him loose his balance. He fell on the ground and Theon sat on his abdomen. He raised the shield, screaming as he had never screamed since he had been out of Ramsay’s domain, and he lowered it as hard as he could. The wood broke when it hit the stone of the floor, and he got some splinters in his hands.

Theon’s yells became a soft but long cry. He leaned forward, until his head rested on Dagmer’s left shoulder. There, lying on the ground, he cried and cried. “I liked it… I fucking liked it, uncle…”, he managed to say.

Dagmer hugged him and said nothing. He only talked once Theon started to calm down.

“It’s okay, Theon… Stand up. Let’s sit. Come on.” They both stood up and sat on the table where all kind of shields and weapons were lying. “It’s not okay to like it in that conditions. He was raping you. You just can’t like it, because it’s against you will. There must be something that happened that changed your mind. Maybe a fake show of affection from him, or some nice words that managed to trick you. What do you think?” Meanwhile, he was cleaning Theon’s hands, taking out the splinters as careful as he could be.

Theon was trying to remember.

“I don’t know, uncle… it’s too much for me… I… this is a secret… I tried to picture Robb. It worked at first, you know?” Dagmer was aware of the close relationship Theon had with Robb. He didn’t approve it, he was a Stark, in the end, but he understood it. “Maybe he was passionate in bed. I know this sounds silly, we never did anything… and before that I had sex only with women, but picturing there the one who helped me growing up… it definitely worked. But then it didn’t. It was too obvious. Robb could never be so savage. He would treat me well.” So when had his mind change? Was it with that blowjob?

He continued after sniffling. “My theory is… he didn’t enjoy it at first, either. It was a demonstration of power. He entered the room and did it. But a few months later… he liked to play. To get ready, so to speak. He even tried to prepare me, touching me. And he wouldn’t rush. He would enjoy it. Did I enjoy it because he was enjoying it?”

Theon looked at his uncle’s eyes for the first time since the confession had begun. Dagmer looked away.

“I suppose so” his uncle answered, examining his hands in search of any more wood. “But… I don’t think you enjoyed it the first time he did, did you? Something must have changed in you, Theon. You just need to remember it.”

Theon looked away and he started to wander. He had liked that blowjob, even though the sole memory of it made the scar of his thigh tickle. But it hadn’t been the turning point. It had been later.

He was starting to remember. The long march to Winterfell. The warm walls that received them. The boiling bath he took, reliving memories of the past. The care Ramsay started to show, from time to time. The endless nights of not-so-forced sex. Was it because he didn’t need to prove his power anymore? Because he had his father’s surname and almost the domain of the North? Of course, it belonged to his father, but Ramsay felt it was his. Or was it because he knew, and Theon had subconsciously accepted, that his dog would never try to rebel, weak as he was? It was time to recall another chapter of Reek’s life.

It all started an hour before the great dinner that was held to celebrate their arrival.


	13. Chapter 13

It all started an hour before the great dinner that was held to celebrate their arrival.

“Even the dog needs to be decent for this dinner”, was all that Ramsay told Reek once the bath was in the cell. Even in there it was warm, or at least warmer than in The Dreadfort.

Reek took his poor clothes off without hesitation. He had learned, the wrong way, that it was useless to resist or even defend himself. He was weak, for Ramsay didn’t always feed him, so his strength was lower than ever.

Once naked, he got into the bath. The change of temperature –the water was almost boiling– made him shiver, but he started to relax. He closed the eyes and placed his head back. His lips let out a little smile, revealing the holes where his teeth used to be.

“Don’t smile. Don’t ruin this.” Ramsay’s voice brought Reek back to reality. He put his head up and opened his eyes, looking at his master.

Ramsay was also getting naked. He even took off his earring before he went into the bath. Reek flexed his legs and moved away, cornering himself against the closest side of the bath. Ramsay didn’t complain and in fact he stretched his legs until his feet were placed against his dog’s shins.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?”

Reek nodded. He didn’t know if he was talking aloud or he was actually talking to him.

“I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes, my lord… it feels very good.” Reek answered before he took some water with his bent hands and wetted his head and face. Ramsay imitated him, making his black hair shine more than usual.

“Tonight I want you to be better than any other day. Forget the day you pretended to be Theon Greyjoy. Forget the days you allowed me to fuck you. Forget the days you thanked me for the food. You have to be my best servant. Fill my cup and my dish whenever they get empty until I order you to stop. And if the guests ask you to do anything — hear me, _anything_ , you do it. Unless I order you not to, of course. Is it clear?”

“It is clear, my lord… serve you and serve them unless you tell me the opposite.”

 “That’s right. You never fail me, Reek. You… are… a… good… boy.” With every word, Ramsay was leaning towards Theon, getting closer and closer to him. He ended up biting his lower lip and kissing his extremely marked jaw and his neck.

Theon shivered. He even opened his lips, but no moan or gasp came out. When Ramsay leaned back, he was holding one of Reek’s hand. He was forced to separate his back from the side of the bath, and he wasn’t impressed when his hand ended up between Ramsay’s legs. Before his master could order him anything, he took his member and started to masturbate him.

Ramsay smiled and took his left hand to the other one’s chin, forcing him to look up. They stared into each other’s eyes. Ramsay seemed like a good boy. A curious man playing with one of his servants. There was something about his face that made Theon think he was actually a good person — that deep inside, there was no malice in him. That it was all a façade. Of course, it wasn’t true. Ramsay was evil. There was no other explanation. He wanted power above everything else and he showed in multiple ways. That evening was one of them even if there was no violence in it.

The bastard wanted to kiss the ironborn. He really did. But all he could do was bite his lip, until a few drop of bloods dipped in the water. Then he licked them whenever they started to accumulate in Reek’s lip. “Time to move on”, Ramsay whispered. He stood up. Reek knew what came next.

He didn’t hesitate when he used his mouth. It was still hard for him, specially when Ramsay fucked his mouth, but he wasn’t this time. He was only caressing his hair. Reek looked up, examining up close his abdomen, his pectorals, his hairy armpits. Meanwhile, he was closing his legs in an attempt to hide his erection, but the water, even dirty as it was, let it clear that he was hard. As hard as the cock he was now sucking, moving his head back and forth, choking when he went further and further. But he didn’t stop. Somehow it felt good to be treated well, to be having some freedom.

Reek placed his hands on Ramsay’s thighs. He started to caress them up and down before his left hand moved to play with his balls and his right one went straight into one of his buttocks. It was hard, as if Ramsay trained every day. Reek assumed he did train, but with the arrow, and the rest of his body was probably exercised in bed, whether it was with some prostitute of with Reek himself.

Lost in his thoughts, Reek hadn’t noticed that Ramsay was filling the room with moans. Besides, he was starting to make the grip on his hair tighter, which meant that he needed more. Reek moved his head forward until his lips made contact with Ramsay’s dark and thick pubic hair. He didn’t even mind the gag reflex, although he didn’t last long. A few seconds later he moved back, coughing and spiting tons of saliva. Reek did it again four more times, each of them with more skill and less coughing.

Ramsay took Reek by the armpits until he stood up. Then he turn him. Ramsay looked at his bony back and his flat buttocks. It was a pity that his butt had become that thin, for he would have enjoyed it even more if they were now as they were when he captured him. «I should have raped him before», he thought, full of malice.

“Lower until your chest rests upon the edge of the bath.” Ramsay ordered his dog. Reek did as he said, bending his torso until his skinny pectorals made contact with the warm wood. He also placed his hands on the edge of the bath, looking for some more grip. “That’s right…” Ramsay whispered while his hand was moving on his buttocks. He whipped him with the hand on his right buttock for a few times, enjoying the sound that echoed throughout the whole room. Using the thick saliva Reek had left on his cock, he started to penetrate him.

Unlike the other times, in which Ramsay would impale him even if he bled, he did it without any hurry. They still had forty-five minutes. It hurt, of course it did, but far less than when Ramsay just fucked him with the only purpose of hurting him. Why was he doing that?, Reek wondered, arching his back when Ramsay’s cock entered him, why was he being so nice? In fact, who was he trying to impress? Reek supposed that he was going to be so clean and he was being treated so well because there was someone out there who needed to see it. But who was it?

His thoughts disappeared when Ramsay finally entered him, softly. Theon arched his back again, letting out a moan that filled the silence of the room. Again, it hurt so less that pain was actually a strange form of pleasure. And Ramsay masturbating him, running his hand up and down his hard cock and sometimes squeezing his glans with two fingers was helping the situation to be pleasant.

Ramsay started to fuck him with a gentle pace. The bastard noticed that it was more enjoyable this way. He was still masturbating him and he would stop whenever he felt Reek’s cock palpitate before coming — a cum that never came. The edging was killing Theon, who would shake under the thrusts of Ramsay while wishing to ejaculate.

Ramsay let go his cock to hold his waist. He was feeling his own cum close, so he started to fuck him harder, faster. He charged against his body as if he was raping him. The difference was that Reek’s hole was now adapted to his cock, so it didn’t hurt him. In fact, he was not moaning but screaming. One could really tell they were pleasant shouts. Ramsay didn’t care — if it depended on him, the whole castle should be listening to them. Even watching them.

He came, filling Reek’s hole. The ironborn gasped when Ramsay went out of him and on its place he was filled with a strange emptiness. He could also feel his cum spilling out, towards the now cold water.

“C-can I come, master?” Reek dared to ask, turning his head to see that Ramsay was already in his previous position, sitting against the right side of the bath as if nothing had happened.

“Of course, my Reek. Do it in front of me. I want to watch it.”

Reek stood up and faced Ramsay. He only had to masturbate for a few seconds before he started to come. His seed crossed the space between them before it impacted on the water. Ramsay’s face was decorated with an ugly face, but the sweat covering his body made Reek enjoy the view.

They were both amazed by the amount of cum that left his body, and Reek smiled. Ramsay then looked away, for he still considered Reek an ugly being, but said nothing. They spent a few more minutes on the water.

Still silent, Ramsay stood up and after his body got dry, he dressed up and left the room. Some guards took Reek out of the water, dried him and dressed him with a quite fancy doublet along with some dark trousers and even darker boots. He would have even looked like a lord if a woollen cape hung on his shoulders.

In the dinner, he saw her. The girl. Reek was sure he knew him, although in his mind he saw her as a ghost. A friend from another life, a life that wasn’t his. What was his name?

“Now that all of you, my fellow allies, are reunited here, I would like to introduce my soonto be daughter-in-law.” Lord Roose Bolton announced. He had the cup of wine on his left hand so he could extend his right hand. A girl with long, dark hair and brown eyes, who made the audience hold their breath, took Roose’s hand. “Arya of House Stark.”

Reek definitely felt something. Arya Stark. The name was familiar to him. He examined the girl when she approached Ramsay, who hugged and kissed her in front of everyone. She didn’t seem very happy, and Reek felt sorry for her. Would he treat her as he treated Reek? The ironborn licked his lips. Maybe there was his freedom. He would be released because Arya would replace him.

But reality was uglier, and he would find it out soon.

 

“Was she her?” Dagmer asked.

As promised, they were on a boat, a full ship for the two of them. To starboard, Theon could barely see Pyke and the other islands, as if they had been sketched on the horizon. They were sitting on the deck, and Theon was observing his uncle preparing a gilt-head bream for them to eat.

“No, I don’t think so. Everything happened so fast… when I got free, I mean. But that’s another story.”

He had told him everything. He had spared the details, of course — Dagmer wasn’t interested on how he would have blown Ramsay, but he told him the general tone of the scene so that Dagmer could see how it had changed.

“I know something for sure, then,” Dagmer argued while he was cutting the fish’s heads off, “he wasn’t going to kill you. Not if he enjoyed it that much. I mean, he wouldn’t have done it like that if he didn’t enjoy it, right?”

Theon tilt his head and shrugged. “I guess so. I was still afraid, of course. He could be gentle, but on the next hour he could fill your body with scars. There is… was something wrong with his mind, I tell you.”

“I think we all got to that conclusion.” Dagmer lit a small fire, with care, and started to roast the fish above it. After a moment of silence, interrupted only by the current hitting the ship, he added: “Is it helping? Talking to me.”

Theon doubted. He was still looking at the islands. “Yes. It’s helpful, yes. I know it won’t cure me, I’m still having nightmares, but they are not so terrible. And I have stopped seeing him on my room, so I guess that’s something. But I have already assumed that he will hunt me forever. It’s… this is irreparable, uncle.”

“I imagine so, Theon. But don’t let him win. He’s dead. You lived it. You saw it. You can’t lose now, because you have already won.” Asha had told him how she had freed him and how she had stabbed Ramsay even after he was dead. It was one of the few things about the story that he knew before meeting Theon. Dagmer couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. He should have gone with him. He should have stood by his side. But at the same time, seeing him alive comforted him.

Some minutes later, they were eating the fish leaning over the port, looking at the greyish vastness that unfolded before them. Words weren’t necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sh**ty person because I said I would update this weekly but hell, university is killing me and my inspiration is off. Anyways, I'll try to update the next chapter sooner than this one.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize if there are big mistakes, but you know, my English is not perfect.
> 
> I hope you like it! More will come soon. Feedback is always appreciated.


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